


Martyrs (Never Get Far)

by loveandwarandmagick



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domestic, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Found Family, Friends With Benefits, M/M, background kevaaron and renison, this is called pairing who i want bc i want to, this is what we call: how many tropes can one fit in a work?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:02:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandwarandmagick/pseuds/loveandwarandmagick
Summary: Neil Josten is a lie - carefully constructed so that Nathaniel Wesninski could be laid to rest. He's tired of living in a hotel room, tired of standing still in places that aren't big enough to hold all his ghosts. And then he finds a place to stay, where he thinks he might fit. But then there's Andrew, an old memory that never felt quite far enough to be dead, and Kevin's persistence, and Neil can't bring himself to keep running.Figures the second he lets himself rest, he gets tangled up - in Andrew, namely. Just, not in the way people think. Beyond the sticky situations he finds himself in, he thinks he may be finding a family here. Or, what he thinks family should be.A story about growth,  found family, and learning to accept the things you deserve. And also a cat named MC Clyde.
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Kevin Day/Aaron Minyard, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Seth Gordon/Allison Reynolds
Comments: 42
Kudos: 117





	1. on the run (a series of injuries)

**Author's Note:**

> hello y'all ! this is an idea i've been sitting on for a little while, mostly bc college is hard and stress relief is writing my favorite characters being happy
> 
> that being said, this is very trope-y. so many cliches. bc i like cliche writing and i want to be happy, sue me. i hope y'all enjoy it as much as i do !
> 
> i cannot stress ENOUGH that this will probably have irregular chapter uploads. i am but one small stressed girl and my writing document is a bus coming at me ninety miles an hour. however, if i somehow muster the strength of the organizational gods, this will have weekly updates !

Neil sees the ad before he even finishes registering for his classes, a fluttering page on a lamp post on his way into the registration office. It’s for an apartment off campus, something close by that promises a private space and a single bedroom to himself. The information sparks bright in his awareness, some shred of hope that doesn’t leave him while he walks across campus. He imagines having his own keys to a place that’s nearly his own, to blend in with an inconspicuous roommate and feel less like he’s hiding still. To have somewhere to stay, mostly.

He doesn’t believe in anything that isn’t inevitable - life, death, and each day that keeps coming - but then his registration counselor brings it up when she asks about where he’s planning to live. 

“ _I’d say that living on campus is ideal for you dear, but there’s something within a few miles that’s rather lovely. It’s spacious, and from what I know, the tenant is looking for someone to take the empty room.”_

She hands him a scrap of paper with the same name and number on it, as well as a poorly sketched stick figure with a smile. 

It reads, _come stop by for a tour!_

Neil runs his thumb over it and pockets it, barely remembering to thank the woman for her time as he steps out of the room. His breath stutters hard in his chest, getting snared on the edges of the anxiety building heavy in his throat. He forces himself to breathe past it, swallowing down the flare of worry, and taking step after step.

New place, new name. Everything from his past is gone - old identities, everything he’d ever owned. People too, whether it was for the best or another unfair aspect of living. The only thing that still remains a threat is a person, and that person thinks that Neil’s dead. 

Well. _Nathaniel_ is dead - a technicality that needs to be true for Neil to survive. He’s dead as a ghost; gone but not, a memory of someone that people once knew. Once _needed_. 

He picks up his pace as the wind blows at his back, cold air sinking into his bones. And then he pulls out the number and his phone, and dials it with shaking hands. He ignores the adrenaline spreading through his body; the sticky feeling of a stranger's eyes on him halting his thoughts. As his phone rings, paper fluttering uselessly between his fingers, he counts the people milling around the space with him. A short redhead that avoids his eyes completely as they shuffle along, another short woman with a hijab who passes with only a glance. The phone clicks on as someone stares a little too long, heels clacking loudly in the mostly empty courtyard. 

She’s tall and platinum blonde, eyes sharp as they catch on Neil’s face. His hand comes up to his eye to feel the ridges of a scar, and he turns away. 

_“Hello?”_

Neil blinks, nearly having forgotten that he was on his phone.

“Hi. Hi, I was wondering about the apartment? I saw the ad that said you have a spare bedroom.” 

“Oh yeah. House. You’re serious though?” 

Neil frowns, glancing down at his phone cautiously before bringing it back to his ear. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The person on the other end scoffs, voice sharp and deeper than before. “People like playing pranks is all. I’m Matthew by the way, but you can call me Matt. If you want to stop by for a tour, I mean. Do you? I’m free later this afternoon.” 

“Uh,” Neil says, trailing off as he spots the blonde turning towards him again, head over her shoulder. “I think. At five.” He doesn’t have anything to do for the rest of the day except research the space he’s in, and explore it for himself. 

“Right man, sounds good. Can I have your name?” 

He pauses for a moment, rolling the name out onto his tongue. It tastes like freedom; bittersweet as acrid sugar. 

“Neil Josten.”

**________**

At four, it occurs to Neil that he should stop, as he swings his other leg over a locked fence in an alley.

He’s spent the past three hours surveying campus, finding each exit in each hall. A trick his mom taught him, and something that the FBI encourages. The agent leading his case recommended that he still keep tabs on how to get out of places, if it brings him security. She’d also told him that he should take up her offer of therapy, but Neil’s trust extends to a single FBI agent and an estranged uncle who wires him money (most likely illegally) through said agent. He has no intention of working out the problems of his life with someone who could pry further into it. 

By the time he looks down at his watch, the sky is already starting to dim, the sun disappearing behind heavy gray clouds. Rain is better for staying covered, an excuse to keep his hood up as he crosses over to the address on the paper. It’s not hard to find - all the streets in and surrounding the university are named in alphabetical order, from north to south. 

The building - Neil can’t tell if it’s an apartment or a house anymore - is so large that he has to look up to see the top of it. The wood is painted light blue, a combination of splotchy robin egg and pale turquoise colors like someone was hasty and ran out of paint before they could finish. He shifts his steps to avoid trampling the flower bed out front, a tiny garden just underfoot along the path to the door. 

He almost rings the doorbell, and then thinks better of it, digging his phone out of his pocket to call the person from earlier. Neil remembers his name just as he presses _dial_ , and before he gets the chance to use it, the door swings open and reveals a giant. Neil takes a step back as the space is filled entirely by the stranger, who’s wearing a big grin.

“Neil?” 

And oh. This is (presumably) Matt. 

Matt, who neglected to tell Neil that he’s several inches over six feet tall, and has shoulders broader than the doorway that he’s trying to cram himself through. _Is that normal for a college student?_

“Hey dude, you want to come in?” 

Neil nods, senses flaring up against his will. He resists the urge to run as he steps through the doorway, letting Matt lead the way to keep his path clear. The house is _large_ , but there’s so many things scattered about that Neil can’t imagine what he does to afford a place like this, much less everything he owns. 

“This is the living room, don’t worry about the mess. My girlfriend Dan likes to wait for the weekends to clean up, but the others leave so much shit lying around that it pretty much always looks like this.”

Neil barely has time to question _others_ , before he smacks face first into Matt’s back. 

“Sorry Neil. Uh hey. This is Allison.” 

Neil doesn’t believe in signs. But there’s the same blonde from earlier, still training her sharp brown eyes on him. 

Her eyebrows are arched, tugging at the glare of her expression and making it into something more curiously pleased than menacing. Neil stares, waiting for her to speak up before he can. 

“Allison. Neil,” Matt says after a stretched out moment, gesturing between the two of them. Neil runs through the faces in his head, trying to see if he can place her from any moment before he saw her on campus earlier, but comes up with nothing. 

“Hey,” she says finally, and Neil’s so shocked by the deep roll of her voice that he raises a hand in a half wave, not quite able to get any words out. Her lips twist up into a smile at that, and she slowly raises her own hand. His stomach feels warm and fluttery all of a sudden. 

Matt laughs beside him, then says, “Come on, I’ll show you upstairs.”

They pass through another hallway where Matt points out the bottom level bathroom, and mentions that there’s two more upstairs. 

“You live with Dan and Allison?” Neil asks, because in his opinion, having a bathroom for each person is excessive. He’s just starting to wonder again how the three of them can afford something like this, when he hears shouting from the first room on the right. 

“We have a _guest_ , Aaron!” 

“You think he’s going to want to move in? Oh yeah, let’s go tell him about the annual drug raids.”

Matt laughs like it’s a joke, but Neil finds himself shuffling closer to the stairs again. 

“That’s Nicky and Aaron. From the sound of it, they’re playing video games.” 

“What was that about drug raids?” Neil asks. If there’s people going through the house at any time, he’ll need to have somewhere to hide his things better. The only possessions he has now are all from this life - an ID card with the name Neil Josten, a lighter and a pack of cigarettes he refuses to light until he’s sure he’s completely alone, and a duffel bag full of clothing. And about a quarter of a million dollars. 

The FBI would’ve confiscated it if they knew where it came from. Blood money is as useless as fake money. 

Not that they knew. 

He’ll have to find somewhere to hide it then. If he stays. If nothing else about this place comes up to scare him off. 

“So you have… how many people living here?” 

Matt keeps walking as he talks, bringing a hand up to count off on his fingers. “Well there’s Dan and Allison and I. That’s three. You just heard Nicky and Aaron right now - they’re cousins. Seth is dating Allison so they share a room, and then Renee and Nicky share a room.” 

Neil blinks. “How many people is that?” 

Matt smiles serenely. “That’s not it.” 

One of Neil’s earliest memories is from being six years old, sitting in front of the television in his father’s home. A sitcom had been playing, an uncomfortable moment where someone had been caught eavesdropping and then revealed that there was a whole room of people listening. The audience had laughed, but all Neil remembers is feeling vaguely shocked by it, giggling along hollowly with the studio audience.

That’s how he feels when Matt finishes showing him the empty bedroom and then leads them downstairs, where he finds the living room _full_ of people. 

“This,” Matt sighs, eyes scanning the mass of people piled on the couches, “is it.” 

Neil takes one good look at the group - he’s never seen so many tall people in his _life_ \- and starts towards the front door. 

“I actually have to go,” he says weakly, because a house with over five people in it could not _possibly_ guarantee privacy, and the last thing he needs is to draw attention to himself. “I’ll see myself out.” 

And then the door opens and he’s crumpling to the floor under the weight of a heavy hand to his gut. 

Neil lets out a groan and curls up on himself, gritting his teeth to keep his breaths steady against the pain wracking his side. He hears voices rising behind the ringing in his ears, muffled shouts and the rustling of fabric as people presumably come towards him. 

He blinks up at the stranger who knocked him over, trying to clear the spots from his vision as he says, “It was an accident. He was coming too fast for me to sidestep him.” 

Neil recognizes Matt’s voice behind him when he huffs, “You didn’t have to hit him so hard.”

Another unfamiliar voice from behind Neil says, “Maybe help him up Andrew.” 

All of the blood rushing through Neil goes cold at the name, and his vision clears partially, heart heart slamming against his chest, a set of palpitations rocking him to his core. It couldn’t be. All through Neil’s life, faces melt away into the crowd as he keeps moving. But then he’s offered a hand and comes eye to eye with Andrew. A wary familiarity sinks into Neil’s bones at the feeling.

Same fair shade of blonde hair, same gold eyes flicking lazily between Neil’s face and their still conjoined hands. 

Andrew scans Neil’s face, and if there’s any recognition, it doesn’t show. He lets go. Neil takes a deep breath and turns back around to the couch, confidence bolstered slightly. 

There’s Matt, standing next to a short haired girl who is presumably Dan, given the way they lean into each other. Allison’s on the other side of the couch, in the lap of the boyfriend who’s name Neil can’t be bothered to remember. Another tall, tan grinning boy with dark curly hair, sitting next to a short girl with bleached white hair. Neil catches her eye and immediately turns away to see another taller boy with a chess piece tattooed on his cheekbone, close to… Andrew? 

No. A twin - though they’re dressed nearly identically, this one has an expression too sharp to be anything other than angry. 

“Andrew’s kind of uncomfortable with being touched,” offers the smiling one. Neil forces himself to stay still and not fidget. “I’m Nicky, by the way.” 

“I’m Dan,” says the girl tucked into Matt’s side. “You’re looking to move in?” 

At this, Neil nods, and there’s a mixed response from everyone. He doesn’t have time to figure out whether there’s more people upset about it, or excited, but he does look to Andrew to gauge his reaction as he climbs the stairs. 

He’s still there, drumming his fingers along the stair banister, posture stiff and eyes half lidded. There’s something hidden just beyond his indifference though, too deeply tucked away for Neil to decipher it. His attention is broken away by the girl on the middle of the couch, her white hair falling into her eyes as she offers Neil a smile. 

It’s kind enough to make him squirm. He looks to a safer spot just behind her head, feeling uncomfortably seen. 

“We all just come and go here. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like, and if you need space, then we will grant you that.” 

The truth in her words is startling - she leaves no room for Neil to doubt her - and when he looks around, he sees it corroborated in Matt and Dan’s eyes. Nicky’s excited smile softens, and there, Neil finds that same truth reflected. The only ones who look anything other than earnest have yet to introduce themselves, so Neil brushes them off. 

“You don’t even know me,” Neil says sharply, feeling panic rise up in his chest again. Their kindness is either a trick or a trap; or they feel guilty for him, the boy that must look all alone, looking for a place to stay. 

“I didn’t know Nicky when he came in,” Dan says, throwing a look in his direction. “If you can get past the late night sugar cravings and his angry cousins, he’s pretty cool.” 

“I-” Nicky interjects, through laughter that makes Neil feel more like he’s intruding on these people. A laugh unrestrained, and people that know it well. “Didn’t know Kevin. I can’t stand him a lot of the time, but he still lives here.” He gestures at the dark haired boy, now scowling more openly. It distorts the tattoo on his face, makes it a smudge of darkness along his skin. 

“No one can stand Kevin,” says Allison then, tossing her hair back. Nicky laughs again. Neil tries not to squirm. 

Finally, (presumably) Kevin meets Neil’s eye. “You’re welcome to move in. It doesn’t matter if you get along with everyone or no one, we’re family.” 

It’s enough for Neil to decide to leave. 

He feels numb all over as he steps towards the door, barely feeling the pain in his gut anymore. Family, he knows, means blood and nothing else, and Neil is hardly one to believe that this group of strangers have room for someone whose entire existence is a lie. And finally, the last of his hope crumbles, as Andrew walks upstairs, slamming the door behind him. 

Neil barely remembers to say thank you as he’s leaving, and Matt steps towards him but doesn’t follow as he shuts the door quietly behind him.

He hopes for a second that the weight of his duffel bag is enough to keep him on solid ground, but his legs are flaring with energy, an old instinct rising up. He lets his body go, running down the street back to campus to get back to the office, maybe back to the dorms to see if there’s any availability. 

He doesn’t remember going down at all, just the aftermath. The slam of a car door, pain radiating through his side. A man’s gruff voice behind him, then above him, and then a face comes into view and Neil chokes on a breath, trying to scrabble away.

“Shit okay, you’re alive. _Goddamnit_ , I didn’t even see you kid. Come with me, I have a first aid kit. Unless you need to go to the hospital? Did I break anything?” 

Neil shakes his head no, trying to catch his breath and focus his eyes on the stranger staring down at him frantically. He’s broad shouldered with a wide face, mouth tugging down with concern. The only thing that keeps Neil from flinching back is that his hand stops right before he comes closer, as he observes Neil quietly. 

“Do you need help?” he asks, and Neil is sure that the burning inside of him isn’t just the injury, flames licking up the inside of his ribs. It’s a familiar ache to belong somewhere, to resign himself to a place even if he doesn’t get along with the people inside. The question rings in his spinning head. 

The ache may just be from being hit by a stranger’s truck. Probably. 

He manages an, “I’m fine,” then tries to stand up without swaying and alarming the stranger. 

“Kid, I’ve got stuff for it. Let me take you to the nurse on campus in the dorms. Are you familiar with Ms. Winfield?”

Neil shakes his head, and the movement makes him wince. The nurse is arguably safer than this man in front of him, but he could always deny the ride now and go find her later. 

Except, there’s something knowing in his eyes that steadies Neil, and despite his aggression, he’s still holding himself far away enough. Like he can tell somehow that he needs the space.

“I’m dean of the history department here on campus,” the man says after a long moment. “David Wymack.” 

Neil’s head is spinning too much for him to nod, though he’s not sure if it’s to do with all the different people he’s meeting today or if it’s another side effect of being struck with a car. He blinks his eyes shut. 

“Will it take long?” 

**________**

In the end, he piles into the car, too tired to do more than check to see if Wymack’s any familiar face that he needs to avoid. He should know better though; every face that he needs to know is either dead or burned into his memory. 

The evaluation is quick and painless, conducted over Neil’s shirt when he insists that it stays on. Wymack flinches more than once when the nurse scolds him, bringing up charges to be pressed and reminding him that Neil could have been seriously injured. 

“I’m fine,” Neil says reflexively, more of an empty reminder than something he genuinely believes. 

“But you might not have been,” she responds sternly. Neil just nods, tired and reeling from everything that’s happened today. He’s thinking of calling Agent Martinez and asking her about online schooling options, when someone walks into the office. 

Neil hears his voice before he even steps into view, though he doesn’t want to admit how much his words from earlier had stuck. Enough for his voice to be familiar. 

“Abby? Is Wymack in?”

Chesspiece - _Kevin_ , Neil corrects himself - steps into view, staring at the nurse (Abby?) 

And then he looks at Neil. 

“Kevin,” Wymack says. 

Neil wonders again how he’d gone so many years of his life without seeing the same people twice, only to meet so many in just a day. 

“You’re the one from earlier,” Kevin says, voice stilted. Neil nods and watches as his posture relaxes, as he finally turns to face Wymack. 

“Hi. I was coming by to ask about something.” At this, his eyes cut to Neil again. 

That’s a sign that he knows what to do with at least, not like the metaphorical shit being thrown at him all day. He swings his legs over the makeshift table Abby had him on and thanks her awkwardly, turning towards the door with a last look in Wymack’s direction. 

He’s staring back as Neil lets the door swing shut between them, face unreadable as he glances down at Neil’s bag, and then back up again to meet his eyes. Neil stuffs down the emotion threatening to swallow him up and carries on. He just wants to sleep, mostly. The hotel room he’s staying at until he finds a place is nice, but the quiet roar of the cars on the street below keep him up long after he wants to be, and the shadows that creep along the walls are inevitable when he has nothing else to focus on but the emptiness of the room.

It used to be his mom that he could think of. It used to be the thought of _Andrew_ , an odd comfort in the middle of the night when he wasn’t sure if what he was doing was right. He can’t go back there now, not after that. It’s a sick coincidence that he needs to avoid, that Andrew probably doesn’t even remember. Neil doesn’t even have the time to think about it - the hotel room is still waiting, always, and his ribs are aching with each breath he takes. 

It’s when he’s about to cross the street off campus that someone yells after him.

He stops in his tracks, taking a deep breath and turning to find Kevin waiting, chest heaving. 

“Neil.” 

_A lie. A false name; a false boy._

“What?” 

Kevin shakes his head, breathless sounding, and says, “I meant what I said earlier.” 

“I can’t fit myself into a house with ten people,” he argues, and Kevin smiles in the slightest, lips curving up just a bit. It fills Neil with some sort of pride, having turned the stoic expression from earlier into something less miserable. 

“There’s nine of us,” he says. 

It takes Neil a while to respond to that, as he grapples for a reason to deny it that would make sense. He’s _tired_ \- of wanting somewhere to stay that’s not an empty room, of drifting, of being afraid. Whatever’s on his face must be telling something; Kevin’s own face is mirroring back something curious, knowing. He notices the common theme today, too many encounters with people who look at him like they know him. Like they know anything. 

_They could. If I slowed. I don’t have to stop._

Kevin says, “Where have you been staying?”   
Neil replies, “A hotel room.” 

“Do you want to move in with us?” 

Neil’s suddenly reminded of Kevin in Wymack’s office, the casual way he’s referred to the nurse but stiffened in the presence of the man himself. 

“Is Wymack one of your professors?” he asks suddenly, and Kevin’s vague smile dries out. 

“My dad.” 

“Your… dad,” Neil says slowly. The question is glaring and obvious between them, and it’s out of Neil’s mouth before he can think better of it. “Why don’t you live with him?” 

“I didn’t find out until recently,” Kevin says. “My mom passed and didn’t tell me before she did. She wrote me a note and gave it to a friend of hers. They hadn’t given it to me until about a year ago. And then, when I came to find him, he told me he hadn’t known.” He looks up again to meet Neil’s eyes. “We figured it’d be better to live separately, and see each other on occasion.” 

After a moment of silence, he adds, “I guess it helps that all the people in the house know him. He has a thing for troubled youths, apparently.”

Neil takes the moment to gather himself, feeling too big for his skin suddenly. He adjusts the strap on his bag to keep from saying anything too fast, and then Kevin asks again: 

“Do you want to move in with us?” 

And well, Neil just wants a place to belong that isn’t filled with ghosts. And Kevin looks as tired as Neil feels about extending the truth, building up an equal ground for Neil to walk over onto. 

“Can I?” 

Kevin only nods, but Neil can see a spark of approval in his eyes anyway. 

“You can come back when you’re ready.” 


	2. friendship and other complicated matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil makes his decision and a friend. Allison wins a bet and Andrew makes his own decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi y'all, hope you have a lovely day ! here is chapter two

Neil could only stand the hotel room for another week, letting the sight of the empty decorations hollow him out nightly in his dreams. In the mornings, he’d run to class to clear out the feeling, all his heavy thoughts. At night, he found himself running laps in the hotel gym to avoid getting back to his room, and then getting there eventually until he feels like he’s suffocating.

A week later, he comes back to the mixed-blue house, and Dan is sitting outside in the garden, bright red drink in one hand. With the other, she digs a key out of her shorts pocket and offers it to him, a hopeful look on her face as opposed to Matt’s bright grin when he sees Neil come through the door. 

“There’s no lease that you guys are under,” he’s saying, eyes crinkling with the wide set of his grin. “You just pay me your cut every month and you’re free to go whenever you want. I’m technically the only tenant under the yearly lease.” 

Neil nods, staring vacantly at the door with a mix of bright excitement and dim resolve. His stomach is twisted into uncomfortable knots, even despite Matt’s easy nature. He hears a door slam somewhere in the distance and Matt grimaces as he leads them upstairs to Neil’s room. 

After seeing the contents of his bag (and finding out that, yes, that was all Neil had) Matt took him shopping to find essentials. Bed sheets that hadn’t been used before, a rug for his bedside, despite Neil’s insistence that the floors weren’t  _ that _ cold. A small trash can, lamp, and curtains for the window. 

Matt digs through the toiletries aisle for a new toothbrush, as well as some flowery smelling shampoo. He keeps passing them to Neil to smell, gauging his reactions and putting them back if Neil’s distaste is too obvious. 

“What conditioner do you usually use?” he asks, and Neil stares dumbfounded at all the options available. 

“We’ll go with damage repair,” he says finally, observing Neil’s hair. “Too many dye jobs?” 

Neil nods slowly, tugging at one of the longer curls at the base of his neck when Matt’s eyes go soft and understanding. He wonders if there’ll ever be a day when he can tell them everything - or at least why he needed to dye his hair so often. The truth is shuddered away in safer places, away from anyone who knows  _ Neil _ . 

Matt gestures again that Neil follow, so he does, and the thought drifts to the back of his mind again. 

They get back to the house after a short car ride, Matt’s massive truck humming loudly along the ride. He gives a sheepish grin when they get there and immediately hands the bag to Neil, waving goodbye with a grin and shutting the door softly behind him. 

Neil has noticed, in the past week, that they seem to be taking his stance on privacy very seriously. The other day, when he’d gone out into the hall, Nicky had jumped back with a weak smile, disappearing into his room again. Aaron (Andrew’s twin, Neil had learned) flat out ignored him whenever they bumped into each other. He’s pretty sure that was more for his personal preference than Neil’s sake. Dan came by earlier to see his room with Allison and Renee in tow, and then disappeared after giving him a few things. 

Renee gave him a small flower pot full of soil and seeds that he had no idea what to do with, and a knowing smile that shook Neil more than he’d like to admit. Dan’s cookies were good though, and Allison’s bean bag makes his room look less empty. 

He hasn’t seen anybody else since moving in, only occasionally hearing the shower on the second floor and the sound of low, murmuring voices through the wall. 

Neil only showers in the early morning, when he’s sure that nobody is up. When the mirror fogs over, he sketches patterns in the condensation, trying to lull himself into some sort of tiredness. 

Besides that, he tries to pass the time the way he always does, checking his bag, looking through his belongings. Matt offered to buy him a laptop and Neil immediately declined, though he thinks it might have been useful so he doesn’t have to go use the downstairs system that Matt bought for emergencies.

He decides now to go for it, hoping that it won’t be occupied, or at least hoping that the occupant is quick in using it. The odds of someone being on at three a.m. are small in Neil’s mind, so he’s surprised to find Kevin standing in front of it, hunched forward in a way that looks far too rigid to be casual. 

Neil could go back upstairs - he  _ should _ , before he gets any more information on this. But even from this far, he can see Kevin’s shaking posture, the stiff set of his body betraying his emotions. It’s a familiar stance, something he knows how to diffuse. And the faster he gets Kevin to leave, the faster he can look for his own news. 

“Hey,” Neil says, and Kevin switches the tabs immediately before Neil can get any closer to see. He turns around wide-eyed, face pale and devastated. 

His voice is hoarse and drawn thin as he says, “Usually the people in the house are louder when they come into the room.” 

Neil almost laughs, but the image of Kevin, hunched and shaking, makes him uneasy. Still, he doesn’t think it’s his business to pry. “Can I use the computer when you’re finished?” 

Kevin looks surprised for a moment, and Neil wonders what he’s done to earn the shock. Then a darker look crosses his face, and the ringing quiet in the house is suddenly louder than it was before. Neil gets a nod and turns away quickly, stepping into the kitchen to look for the box of tea he’d bought last week. The memory of the trip brings a reluctant calm to him, as he remembers Matt writing his name on the package in thick, black marker. 

_ “The people in that house are savages. Nicky sleep walks and eats everything if you don’t hide it. Allison usually grabs things without paying attention and then pays for another to replace that one. Andrew just doesn’t care.”  _

While the water heats up, Neil hears socked feet pad into the kitchen. It feels strange to be able to distinguish Kevin’s footsteps from the other residents - he’s always wearing socks and never drags his feet. Neil is sure he’s the one who paces the hall at night, a repetitive back and forth that soothes his own fraying nerves. 

“I’m done with the computer. If you still need it.”

Neil nods and waits for Kevin to leave. 

He doesn’t. 

The kettle bubbles silently behind Neil while Kevin watches him. If anything, he’s gotten more rigid since stepping into the kitchen, shoulders drawn up in defense. Neil concentrates on pouring his tea and waiting for Kevin to speak, trying not to squirm. 

“Thank you,” he says. The words sound odd in his mouth, like he’s not used to saying them. “For not asking.” 

“Asking what?” 

Kevin’s brow pulls lower over his eyes. 

“The computer. What I was looking at.” 

Neil shrugs, stirring honey into the tea and pressing his hands against the mug. The heat only leeches through to the unscarred parts of his hands, like always, and he presses harder. “That’s your business. I wouldn’t want you asking what I was doing either.” 

Kevin nods, stilted, and Neil studies him in the dim kitchen light. 

“Thank you,” he says again. And then he disappears back into his room upstairs. 

Neil had found out a while ago that he’s sharing it with both Andrew and Aaron, a combination that doesn’t make any sense considering the spare bedroom they have. He didn’t ask, and Matt hadn’t offered any more details on it. 

He finishes the tea quickly, dropping the mug in the sink to wash and then heading back upstairs. 

Andrew’s there leaning against the wall by the hallway window, cigarette glowing cherry red in the dark. Neil doesn’t stop or say anything, but he feels Andrew’s eyes on him until his door closes.

**_____**

The thing with Kevin is reluctant, at first, but inevitable. A tentative idea forms that neither of them know how to work around - friendship. 

It starts when Neil goes down again to use the computer, just scrolling to pass the time and fall asleep easier that night. Classes have been too easy to drown in just yet, so his mind is less distracted than he’d like. 

Kevin’s there again, every night for the rest of the week, and each time Neil catches him, he stays to talk a little longer. 

It’s how they find out they’re both into checking current news events - though Neil assumes they have different reasons. On top of that, Kevin’s interest in history conflicts directly with Neil’s interest in only the present, and makes for some interesting (albeit irritating) discussions. 

So, in the loosest way he can describe it, they’re friends. 

Right now, Kevin’s taking advantage of the computer to show Neil a historical documentary clip, something about the replication of a mummy’s voice that he has  _ no  _ interest in hearing. 

“It’s important because it’s where we  _ come  _ from,” Kevin whisper shouts, not keen on waking up half the house. Neil rolls his eyes over his second mug of tea, trying not to laugh at the single grunt produced by the mummy.

“Aren’t you half Irish? Where’s the half Egyptian coming from?”

“I have a father,  _ Neil _ .” 

“Is he Egyptian,  _ Kevin _ ?” 

Neil’s mind stretches around the memory while he tries to go to sleep and it brings a small smile to his face. He drags a thumb against his mouth to wipe it away.

After a night of bad dreams - the only kind he has, really - waking up is unsettling; the feeling that he was never really asleep in the first place permeating his thoughts.

He dresses and leaves before anybody else is up, taking his usual route through the side of the neighborhood and letting the familiarity of it ground him again. 

When he gets back, Andrew is sitting out in the garden, cigarette lit but untouched, if the steady stream of smoke trailing it means anything. 

Neil debates saying something, but he’s not sure what he could say. " _ Do you remember?  _ "  seems trivial, too much like those shitty movies he watched when he and his mom had to spend the night in a theater in Oklahoma, healing from new wounds and hiding from the cold weather. 

Right when Neil pushes the door open, Andrew tsks behind him, the sound stopping him cold in his tracks. 

“Running off again, rabbit?” 

Neil doesn’t know what he expected of his voice - it used to be higher and more guttural, a rough imitation of the hollow sound ringing back at him now. And there it is, the proof that he remembers.  _ Rabbit.  _

“You remember,” Neil breathes, still not daring to turn around. The hope blooms bright in his chest, unfurling bright and hot, taking his breath away. He doesn’t turn around, but he doesn’t have to to catch Andrew’s next words. 

“It’s nothing.” 

Finally, Neil turns, hope collapsing into confusion. 

“Nothing,” he repeats dully, shoulders sinking. Andrew stares at him blankly and nods, blowing a stream of cigarette smoke from his mouth. Neil feels his body sway traitorously towards the acrid scent, relishing in the familiarity of it. 

“Coincidence,” Andrew says, and Neil shakes his head. He can’t help the disbelief creeping on him. And even if it  _ is _ coincidence, it’s not  _ nothing.  _ It’s Neil’s whole life, now.  __

“You don’t think it means anything. Good or bad?” 

At this, Andrew finally stands, coming close enough to Neil that he can smell the smoke lingering on his clothes. His eyes are melted gold in the morning light, so close that Neil is almost there again, the scent of salt water rolling over him in waves. It’s washed out again by cigarette smoke, a reminder of the passed time. 

Andrew says, rough and quiet, “It means somehow, you managed to stay alive. And now you’re here, which means you ran.” 

“I ran,” Neil says. Irritation shoots down his spine, making him a live wire. He remembers now what was said on that day, and Andrew seems to sense it, eyes lighting up from the inside with interest.

“I ran and now I don’t have to. I can stay still.” 

Andrew says nothing, only staring at Neil for as long as he can bear to be scrutinized. He doesn’t move back, daring Andrew to be the first to go, but he does look away, uncomfortable with the intense absence in Andrew’s eyes. Neil feels Andrew move closer and forces himself to stand his ground, not flinching back when he hears the whisper close to his ear. 

“I think you’re still running,  _ Abram. _ ” 

With that, Andrew leans away and goes back to sitting by the flowers, leaving Neil’s head spinning. 

The door opens and Renee shuffles out, looking between Neil and Andrew with a serene expression. It’s too blank for Neil to gauge, but her stare is too intense, so he excuses himself and ducks in behind her, shutting the door behind him softly. 

**_____**

Andrew doesn’t talk to him again after that, and everything is the same constant as it has been. Neil watches as people start to pick up on Kevin’s inclination towards him. Allison comes downstairs and nabs a cookie from the box labelled  _ Seth _ , tossing a five dollar bill in. Her eyes are keen when they land on Kevin, showing Neil something on his phone. 

He supposes this is where things change again, when he gets home from a dreary night class. The sky is dim with heavy clouds threatening rain, and everyone’s piled on the couches in the living room. 

As he enters, they all look up at him. 

Nicky says, “Hey, Neil,” as Aaron turns back to the screen. Dan and Matt wave eerily in sync, and everyone else spares him a second glance, but doesn’t say anything. It’s blissful, in a way, to be surrounded by people but ignored if that’s what he chooses. He almost goes straight to his room, feeling sticky from the fresh outside air and ready to take a shower and burrow into bed, but then Kevin says his name and reels him into watching some video on his phone. 

Neil sits on the edge of the couch sharing an earphone with Kevin, poring over his paid results. It’s an ancestry trail tracing the route of the name Wymack. Neil rolls his eyes.

“See,” Kevin says, not at all quiet enough to keep from disrupting the others, “I’m a sixth Egyptian.” 

“I see,” Neil says dryly. “A sixth. You’re mostly European. Wymack isn’t an Egyptian name.” 

It’s then that Neil realizes that Allison’s paused the movie. He follows her glance to the top of the stairs, catching sight of Andrew leaning over the banister like that day all those weeks ago, when Neil first decided to stay. 

“Since you’re getting along so well with Kevin, why doesn’t he move in with you?” Allison asks, voice suspiciously flat. Her hand dips down to her pocket and Neil makes out the outline of the coin purse she carries with her. He’s reminded of Matt’s warning, the way the group of them bet incessantly on everything and anything. Neil suspects this decision is either winning or losing her money.    


“Coercion,” Nicky announces sullenly, though he doesn’t look too displeased. “Neither of them brought it up first, and you’re leading them to it.” 

“Helping it move faster, _darling_.” 

Matt says, “Neil wanted the bedroom to himself. That’s why he moved in. Unless, he wants that?” He is not conspicuous in palming his wallet either. 

Neil looks to Kevin for help. He can’t imagine Kevin - solitary and surly as he is - wanting to share a room with him. If he’s choosing to share one with two other people already, Neil’s not sure why he’d change that now. 

Except, his face corroborates Allison’s point, thought shadowing his features and making him look even more serious. 

“I mean…” Kevin says. Nicky makes a stifled noise next to them, and Kevin’s face crumples, looking up like he’s just remembered there’s an audience. He looks to Neil then, eyes flashing with questions. 

It wouldn’t be  _ unbearable _ , not really. Kevin’s the first friend he’s made in… ever, if he doesn’t count Andrew. Which he  _ shouldn’t _ , considering they weren’t really friends in the first place. So, the idea isn’t entirely unappealing. At this point, each person on the couch is leaning forward with interest, and Neil can’t tell who’d be losing money if they moved in together. 

If anything, he’d want to be in favor of Dan, considering she’s the one enforcing his privacy. He’d been in his room as someone passed through the hall, and heard her remind them about boundaries. But then there’s Allison, keen eyes following him around the room like she knows what he wants. 

Even Seth - quieter and vicious when he wants to be - has been decent to Neil. Though he looks the least interested in it all, more focused on the pause of the movie than anything. His eyes are glassy and disinterested. 

“Do you want to move in?” Neil asks honestly, wishing for the privacy of a closed door more than anything. He feels everyone’s attention keenly, especially Andrew’s sharp, watchful eyes. Neil knows it’s coming even before he looks up, even before Andrew starts coming down the stairs.

Only Renee seems calm when he speaks, but Neil can’t help but notice the way everyone tenses when his voice rings out into the room. 

“Kevin can stay with Aaron,” he says. The words sound damning, like they’ll happen simply because they were said. Neil wonders what it’s like to have such command; a precise hand on the trigger at all times. Andrew speaks like he’s sure no one will argue against him. 

“Fuck no, Andrew. I don’t want to stay alone with him, who the fuck is he going to bother besides you?” 

Nicky interjects to say, “Well, lately, it’s been Neil. So it’d make sense that they move in together.” 

“That’s true,” says Dan, face going tight when Andrew turns to face her with an empty smile.

“I’ll move in with Neil.” 

The silence gets so loud that Neil can hear his ears ringing.    
“With Neil,” Matt says, confirming, and Andrew nods. 

Once again, the attention is directed at Neil again, and he wishes for a solitary moment to ask  _ why _ . After the whiplash of blissful nonrecognition, and then the burning moment of realizing Andrew remembers him, why  _ now.  _ In front of everyone. His temper flares up again briefly before he shoves it down. 

“He’s never home,” Neil offers weakly, ignoring everyone’s eyes except for Andrew’s. “Do you want to?” 

“I said it, didn’t I?” 

Neil was wrong, then. Andrew knows people will argue against him, but he speaks like he’ll win the argument anyway. 

And he’s proven right when no one argues. People start to fish money from their wallets, most given to a smug-faced Allison. 

“Since they  _ didn’t  _ move in together, that’s for  _ me _ .”

“I thought you bet on us,” Kevin says, brows furrowed, and Renee accepts the wad of cash given to her. 

“Just said it to gauge if it was a good idea. And to speed along the proceeds, of course.” 

Seth groans and Allison pecks him on the cheek, handing him a single crumpled dollar as a conciliatory gift. 

Andrew disappears back upstairs, and Neil follows, ignoring everyone’s eyes on him. 

His mind is swirling with thoughts, different emotions painting his insides black and blue. The past and the present come together again, Andrew in the center of it all. Decisions made, again and again; both years ago and today. 

The door is open, so Neil walks in and nearly runs into Andrew, stopped at the center of it. 

He has more to say, but the only thing that escapes is, “Why?” 

_ Why the beach? Why tell me to run and hate me for it? Do you hate me? Did you always?  _

Andrew neatly avoids answering any of those questions and says, “I want a new room.” As if it’s casual. As if the suggestion didn’t elicit the strongest surprised reaction that Neil has ever seen before. 

“You know that’s not why I’m asking.” 

“I asked you if you had anywhere left to run,” Andrew says, stepping closer and pinching Neil’s chin between his fingers. The motion is swift enough that Neil can’t pull away, but he stands his ground even when Andrew’s grip loosens to let him get away.

“I could’ve, but I didn’t,” Neil replies. The fingers get tighter, Andrew’s chin tilting up further to stare Neil down. 

“I was drugged out of my mind when I asked, and I still had the common sense to know you should run. Clearly, this sense eludes you.”

“I’m better now than I was.” 

“Tell me then,” Andrew says. They’re so close that his breaths fan out onto Neil’s own mouth, slow and even. It doesn’t match his vicious words. “It’s better to be the government’s dog, Abram? To have a leash on you? You’ll be a Netflix documentary topic soon enough.” 

Neil almost laughs, only holding back the sound because of how sharp it might come out. “I’d be censored at least. Anyone who’s still looking for me thinks that I’m dead.”    
“You should’ve  _ ran _ ,” Andrew says again, voice straining. Neil searches for his true meaning, for the warning, but finds nothing that makes sense.

“I told somebody instead. And it worked.” 

Andrew steps back. “You were lucky.” 

“I don’t believe in good luck.”

Andrew’s smile eats a hole through his blank expression, curved and half-hearted amusement. It looks less like a smile than a frown would, a perfect replacement. 

“Telling doesn’t work for everyone,” he says, and turns away. 

“No, I guess not,” Neil replies. He takes Andrew’s turn towards the window as a dismissal and goes back downstairs, refusing to meet anyone’s eye. His insides feel raw and scraped with the memory of their first meeting, of Andrew's words, but just underneath, there’s hope. The promise of more, of a real future, burns into his eyelids that night as he’s going to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what y'all thought lovelies ! thank you for reading up to this point, and i'll have chapter three up by next friday <3


	3. run, run rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neil met andrew for the first time on a beach, two years ago
> 
> tw for non graphic description of neil's backstory (the b*each scene)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter this week for the flashback lovelies ! next chapter will come next friday n' will definitely be longer <3
> 
> side note: my timeline may be a bit off,,, i've always been bad at figuring that stuff out lol

_ Neil only manages a few miles down the beach before he has to sink into the sand, grabbing fistfuls of it to keep his fingers from shaking. The weight in his palms is grounding, and the longer he sits next to the water, the more the scent washes over the spill of smoke and cleans it off of him.  _

_ He sees the streak in his peripheral vision before it gets to him, and still doesn’t even reach for the gun in his bag. _

_ His mother would kill him now if she saw - accepting the fate that comes to him rather than trying to run from it. There’s nothing left though, nothing but a binder in his bag. Some memories, none really good enough to save him from the thing clawing its way through his chest, leaving hole after gaping hole. Maybe just tearing open the ones that were already there. _

_ The threat comes, and Neil lets it, sure that it must be a threat after everything.  _

_ He looks over as the person sits down beside him and meets eyes with a boy, looking about Neil’s age. He can’t really gauge how close his approximation is - he’s always been much better with familiar faces than guessing ages. After Neil scans his body for weapons, finding nothing, he allows himself to take in the rest to see if he’s anyone familiar. The stanger’s hair catches the rays of the sun and throws them back at Neil, eyes a mix of yellow and green and brown. Completely unfamiliar, a portrait of swirling, scintillating colors that soothe Neil instantly. Each terrible thing burning through him pulls back under the weight of his stare, and it bolsters his voice enough for him to speak. _

_ “What,” he says cautiously, testing his voice. The scream that he suspects is tearing him in half doesn’t rip its way out of him to alarm the stranger next to him. In fact, he still seems just  _ bored _. The touch of indifference feels like the only thing keeping Neil grounded to this Earth right now.  _

_ “What what,” says the other boy. His voice is rough and high, almost as raw as Neil’s own. It’s a peculiar sound, like he’s swallowed a lungful of smoke, almost as much as Neil. His smile is bright and painful looking, tugged up at the edges in a way that looks more angry than happy.  _

_ Neil looks away.  _

_ “Why are you here?” he asks after a moment, not keen on sitting in silence for longer than a few minutes.  _

_ He feels watched, though it’s not an unpleasant feeling.  _

_ “Why are you?” asks the stranger.  _

_ “Are you just planning on answering my questions with the same question?”  _

_ The boy looks considering, or a mocking sort of consideration, and then shakes his head. _

_ “I’m sitting here because I want to. Are you going to stop me?”  _

_ Neil shakes his head, ignoring the challenge in the other boy’s voice. He looks shorter than Neil by a bit, but there’s a clear outline of a weapon on his hip. It’d been easy to ignore before, but his hands keep shifting restlessly along his body, fingers dancing closer and closer to it. _

_ “Are you going to knife me?” he asks, deducing the shape to be a knife of some kind. He’s proven right when the boy looks at him and tugs it out, shifting it between his hands so fast that Neil is half-worried it’ll slip out and cut him. _

_ “No. Not if you don’t cross a line.”  _

_ Neil frowns. “What line would I cross?”  _

_ “Don’t touch me,” says the stranger, and Neil nods.  _

_ “Why would I?”  _

_ He gets a head tilt for that, and it’d feel almost admonishing if not for the strange smile on his face. Neil’s ears burn just the slightest bit, and he wonders how he can have any shame for such a mundane thing at a time like this. Then again, he never anticipated being able to carry a conversation with someone after burning his mother’s body. Maybe this is progress then, proof that things can feel slightly normal. _

_ “What’s your name?” he asks, testing himself further, waiting for the collapse. He’s not sure it’ll come, at this point.  _

_ “Why do you need to know?”  _

_ Neil shrugs.  _

_ “Andrew,” says the other one, after a tentative moment. His face hasn’t changed, but Neil hears the slight curiosity in his tone anyway. “Do you have a name?”  _

_ At the mention of names, Neil’s heart drops down into his stomach. The thought of going by Alex now, or Stefan or Chris or anything else makes him sick. He thinks this is where the grief begins, this hollow sharp needle at the top of his stomach that reminds him that nothing is the same.  _

_ “You can call me Abram,” he manages, standing unsteadily. The ground seems to shift below his feet and he has to blink his vision back into focus. “There’s nothing left besides that.”  _

_ His mother - his very dead, permanently gone mother - would have wrung his neck for giving out something so personal. He almost hears her hissing the words,  _ be nobody, make yourself impossible to see. 

_ Nothing, he thinks, is a rather easy thing to pretend to be. _

_ “That’s not really your name though, is it?” Andrew asks, standing as well. Neil takes a half second to shake his head, and another to turn to stare at Andrew.  _

_ “It’s the closest to my name. Why are you talking to me?”  _

_ “Why are you on the beach?” he returns. Neil scoffs, staring down at his hands. There’s no blood on them, but he imagines the sticky feeling so well that there might as well be. He wants to dip his fingers in the ocean until his skin peels, leaving nothing left of the moment.  _

_ “I could ask you the same.”  _

_ “But you haven’t,” Andrew points out. Neil stares at him for a moment longer. He really needs to go. He should go. _

_ But he feels that maybe this will be the last normal interaction that he’ll have for a while. And his chest is screaming at him not to let the moment pass yet.  _ _  
_ _ Just a chance to  _ be.  _ Something he might never get again, if he keeps running.  _ _  
_ _ “Why are you on the beach then, Andrew?”  _

_ “For fun.”  _

_ It’s the answer Neil expected - sounding sardonic and probably a lie. That’s fine, then. He doesn’t need truth to reveal just a bit of his own; enough to make him feel human just for a moment.  _

_ “I’m not going to be here by tomorrow,” he offers, and speaking it aloud makes him feel like he’s just looped a noose around his neck. He’s too tired to be afraid.  _

_ Andrew watches him speculatively, head tilted up just the slightest to look Neil in the eyes.  _ _  
_ _ “Running off?” he asks, pulling a cigarette box and lighter from his pocket. Neil’s body curves towards the scent as he lights it, sucking in a greedy lungful like he’s just been allowed to breathe again. The scent of it this close hurts almost, makes the ache in his chest just a bit sharper. But he can  _ feel _ it, and that’s what matters. The feeling is what makes him real.  _

_ “By tomorrow,” Neil says carefully, “I’ll be in San Francisco. And then I’ll find my way to a different state and stay there until I can’t.”  _

_ He doesn’t know why he’s spilling secrets, if it’s the dimming sky or the smell of cigarettes or Andrew’s disinterested gaze catching the flicker of his lighter. Only that once he’s started, the words ebb from him like a slow bleeding wound, pouring sticky truths out over everything.  _ _  
_ _ “I don’t know. I don’t know where I’ll go.”  _

_ “Do you have to? Running is for cowards.”  _

_ “I know,” Neil snaps. “I know. I have to. You don’t know a single thing about it.”  _

_ “Fight back,” Andrew says, like he knows exactly what he’s saying. Like he knows anything at all. He blows a stream of smoke into Neil’s face and says, “Fight so you don’t have to run, if you have nowhere left to go.”  _

_ “It doesn’t work like that.” _

_ “So make it,” Andrew says roughly. “Figure it out then. Or run, if that’s all you can do.”  _

_ Neil nods once, then again and again. He steps away, still nodding.  _ Run _ , his brain whispers.  _

_ He’s just so fucking tired. And his mom is gone. And he has nothing;  _ is _ nothing.  _

_ “I’m fine,” he whispers, Andrew staring at him with nothing but rawness in his face. It’s such a blank, happy expression that Neil isn’t sure he’s not on something. _

_ “Are you on drugs?” he asks, mostly to keep his voice from being swallowed whole.  _

_ “Only the legal kind.” _

_ Neil stares silently until Andrew smiles. It’s all wrong looking, distorted and so unhappy that it seems almost vicious.  _

_ “I need to go,” Neil says.  _

_ The last thing he hears behind him is, “Run run rabbit.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading my loves! take care and to all my u.s babies - hang in there ! biden's so close to winning <3


	4. assumptions and andrew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not much going on. lots of mundanity (is that a word?) lots of banter and some tension. oo a rumor mayhaps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello babes, am sorry for the late chapter update <3 
> 
> semester is almost over for me and am trying my best to balance school and seeing my family/friends in order to keep my mental health intact. love you all and i hope this chapter makes up for the lateness <3

It’s less of an affair than Neil thought it’d be when Andrew moves in. 

He’s asked once again by Dan if that’s what he wants, and a million times more by Matt. He gets tugged away just as he leaves his room, met with a worried glance and a near hand on his shoulder. It takes a few times to actually convince Matt that it’s fine. 

_ But I’m not asking if it’s fine, I’m asking if that’s what you want.  _

The concern in his tone made Neil bristle, but it was the confusion that Neil finds himself struggling with as well. At least neither of them understands Andrew’s decision. Not that Neil is going to ask Matt why the change of heart. 

It’s not anything significant, really. Andrew moves his things in quietly, usually when Neil is busy doing something else, like class or using the restroom. When he gets out of the shower at five in the morning, he puzzles over how Andrew managed to get his bed in the room without making noise. Trying to figure it out makes him feel restless, so he gets up to take a run instead of sleeping.

The pounding of his shoes against the gravel makes him feel a little more alive, giving him a chance to clear the adrenaline from his body, but his mind keeps spinning in aggressive circles, going from past to present again and again. And then again when he gets home, Andrew’s sitting outside in the garden, holding a lit cigarette but not smoking. 

Neil gathers his thoughts, waiting for a conversation or some acknowledgement, and Andrew stares, but doesn’t say anything. 

_ Deja vu,  _ he thinks, and Andrew says, “What.” 

It’s not a question, but Neil presumes he’s asking, and answers, “Nothing.” 

“You’re staring at me.” 

“You’re sitting in front of the house,” Neil replies, standing closer to Andrew’s form. “Where else am I supposed to stare?”

He catches the scent of smoke as it drifts up towards him, letting it sink his shoulders just a bit. Andrew pushes himself up to stand, pulling his cigarette box and lighter out and offering one to Neil. 

“I don’t smoke,” Neil says, and Andrew stares until he takes one anyway. 

“Every time I smoke, you’re all over me. It’s not hard to figure out.” 

“I just like the smell,” Neil admits quietly, accepting the lighter when it’s offered to him. He lights up quickly with an unpracticed hand, catching the side of his thumb and wincing with the slight burn. 

“I wonder if cigarette smoke is bad for the flowers,” Neil mumbles, wondering who planted them in the first place. He suspects Renee, or maybe Matt. Andrew doesn’t respond, but he studies Neil quietly and doesn’t look away when their eyes meet. Even through the haze of smoke, his eyes burn bright enough that Neil feels like he’s burning alive. When the cigarette burns down, Andrew disappears inside, leaving Neil behind while his mind hazes out pleasantly.

_____

Classes that week are grueling, a combination of the constant dreary weather and Neil’s own inability to forget that he’s living with Andrew. He finds it hard to fall asleep when he feels another person on the other side of the room, an acute presence like a thorn burrowing into his side. It’s nothing like his mother - they used to sleep back to back to keep from being caught off guard. 

Andrew sleeps facing Neil, back pushed flat against the wall like he’s trying to sink into it. The sight of his rigidity is what keeps Neil up until the early hours of the morning, when he’s supposed to be getting up. It’s only when the line of Andrew’s shoulders softens that he’s able to convince himself he’s not being watched, and when Andrew’s heavy breath evens out into something gentler and rhythmic.

It’s such a contrast from his waking hours that Neil finds himself mulling over it constantly, trying to piece together more about the only person in the house who doesn’t want to be known so easily. 

Neil rolls over and tries to ignore the feeling of being watched, letting his mind blank out into the relief of sleep. 

Andrew’s absence is acute on Saturday morning, and Neil lets himself relearn to breathe again this time in the quiet morning light, not conscious of another person watching him. The room feels empty somehow, though Neil had gotten used to being on his own for long enough. It may just be Andrew’s presence taking up so much space, impossible to ignore no matter how silent or indifferent he is. Neil takes one last breath and goes downstairs to make some of the tea that Allison bought him, some import that she’d promised would energize him and is flavored like oranges.

Downstairs, Nicky and Aaron are making breakfast, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease. Dan, Matt, Renee, and Allison are posted on the couch watching the news. Allison glances up coolly as the rest say hello, nodding her head towards the counter. There’s a jar filled with a colorful array of what looks like tea leaves, and Neil’s chest heats up with something that he assumes is gratitude. 

Nicky turns away from the stove, leaving Aaron to dive in to salvage the pancake that’s starting to smoke in the pan. “How’d you sleep kiddo? Get used to Andrew yet?” 

Neil wonders what “used to” is supposed to mean, considering Andrew is barely ever in the room, and when he is, he rarely says a word. Sometimes, he’ll sit by the window and smoke, offering Neil a cigarette that he never takes. Sometimes, he lays in bed with a book and doesn’t look away from it for hours. Neil glances at him in between homework problems to see if his focus will ever break, but it rarely does. 

“It’s fine,” Neil says absentmindedly, and Nicky laughs. 

“How many times do you say that phrase? Or, saying  _ I’m fine _ .” Nicky flips another pancake and raises his voice, calling out to the people in the living room. “How many times has he said that?” 

Neil had assumed they were more invested in their own things, so he’s surprised when voices drift over with guesses.

Renee’s voice floats over calmly, a single laugh getting lost immediately in the raucous sound of Allison and Matt raising their voices over each other.    


“Easily over fifty,” Matt says. “He said it at least six times at the grocery store.” 

Allison shakes her head, Neil catching the sight as he glances into the living room. “My bet is on twenty three. No way it’s been over fifty.” 

Nicky laughs and joins in on the conversation, turning away from the stove. Aaron grabs a spatula from the drawer and starts flipping the abandoned ones, and eventually, Neil grabs his own and takes over to a chagrined look from Aaron. 

“You don’t need to help,” he mutters, scowling. It was easy to ignore at first, but it’s starting to get irritating, not being able to do a single thing in Aaron’s vicinity without some sort of criticism. 

“I’m just helping. Is there a problem with that? 

Aaron scoffs. “No. I’m just saying you don’t have to.” 

“And I am. So don’t worry about it if it’s not an issue.”

The tension draws Nicky’s attention away from the group, everyone quieting as Aaron and Neil’s voices rise. Neil feels hot all over, frustration pooling heavy in his chest and throat. He forces it down and clears his throat, willing away everyone else’s attention so he can keep an eye on breakfast without panic crawling along his limbs. 

“Have you tried the tea yet?” Allison asks finally, and he shakes his head. She gets up off the couch, velvet pants brushing along the floor with every step. Neil pretends not to notice Renee’s eyes following Allison as she reaches for the tea, even when Renee flashes him a small, strained smile at being caught. He doesn’t have much time to think about it before a thumping noise sounds from the stairs and Seth appears, shuffling into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Allison’s waist.    


“You’re heavy,” she mumbles, but she leans back into the attention anyway. Neil is pretty sure they’d been the ones shouting at each other last Tuesday night, but he’s not about to question the affection at the moment. 

“Anyone working tonight or are we still marathoning?” Matt asks, probably to diffuse the tension between everyone. Aaron says something under his breath and leaves the room, leaving everyone else to scramble up to make noise. Kevin thumps down the stairs as well, which leaves only the twins out - Aaron, throwing a fit and Andrew mysteriously gone for the morning. 

Nicky glances after Aaron once, as if he can still see him on the stairs, but he turns away after a long moment. Neil catches the glance Dan throws at Matt, but neither of them says anything. Upstairs, the familiar sound of the video game Aaron and Nicky play starts up. 

Allison hands over a mug of tea, drizzling in honey and a bit more of the dried mixture on top.    
“If you don’t like the texture, I can strain it out. But I heard it’s better if you keep the actual physical parts of the leaf.” 

Neil nods, albeit skeptically, and takes a cautious sip. It’s warm and tingles on his tongue and in the back of his throat, soothing the soreness of the morning as he continues drinking. He’s not sure if it’s placebo or if it genuinely works, but he’s thankful for the burst of energy he can already feel working its way through his body. It’s better than the jittery energy of coffee. 

“What were you saying about the marathon?” Nicky asks Matt, but his attention is still being spent on shared looks with Dan. Seth kisses Allison on the head and moves into the living room, leaving her to eye Neil like she can see right through his forced calm. It’s as unnerving as it is comforting. 

“Good?” she asks, and he nods honestly, feeling soothed by the tea and her concern all at once.

“What’s marathoning?” Neil asks, not able to picture the group wanting to do any physical activity together. 

“Movie night until we can’t stay up anymore,” Matt calls, as he follows Dan into the living room. “It’s fun since we’re all up super early, so the last ones to fall asleep get to choose the movies next week. This week, Renee is up to pick since everyone passed out before her.” 

“So we’re probably watching some feel good eighties classics,” Dan says. Neil can hear the smile in her voice. 

“Unless she lets Allison help her pick,” Nicky interjects, turning to Neil. “They’re very close.”

So Neil isn’t the only one who’s picked up on it, apparently. He’s still trying to gauge and assess, but it’s difficult when everyone’s always shifting in the house, changing just when he assumes he’s figured them out. At least Kevin comes to him freely with his rants, though it’s rare that he discloses any of his own life. He’s much more concerned with the latest news outrage or some political scandal of the historic era that was only recently discovered. 

Matt comes back into the kitchen, breaking Neil’s train of thought when he asks, “Do you work? I mean you have to right, for the lease.” 

Neil figured already that it’d look less suspicious if he had a job, especially since he’s spending the money he inherited rather illegally. He opts for saying, “I’m looking for a job right now.” 

“I can get you one at the mall by here,” Nicky jumps in to say. “Or my boyfriend is here for the semester, if you want me to get you one at the library.”

Neil thinks about it for a moment, contemplating the idea of working there. It’d be quiet and probably low maintenance, somewhere he could be alone and not be bothered in a small building with more than one exit. 

“Alright,” he says slowly. Nicky grins, already digging his phone from his pocket and speaking excitedly. “Okay, I’ll let him know then. He’ll probably have you come in for an interview, whenever it’s good for your schedule. They’re really flexible with student hours. Oh, you did mean the library job right?” 

Neil nods, taking another sip of his tea. “I only have two morning classes on Monday.” 

“Cool cool, I’ll tell Erik around the afternoon then. We can talk more about it at the marathon tonight. Are you free?”   
At this, mostly everyone’s attention shifts to Neil. He makes eye contact with Matt, who’s staring with a mix of calmness and anticipation that makes Neil feel squirmy. 

“I don’t have anything to do,” he responds, sighing involuntarily. “What time?” 

“Starts at nine,” Nicky says. “Then it’s whenever you drop. We usually send two people out to get snacks before it starts, but we’ll decide that later.” 

Neil drains the last of his tea around a nod and pretends he didn’t watch Matt’s shoulders drop in relief. 

Allison strides out of the kitchen, calling, “What movies tonight?”

_____

The day passes fast, a mixture of Neil’s anticipation and the fact that he’s drowning himself in homework. Andrew comes home sometime in the afternoon, smelling heavily of smoke and wearing, for once, a thin t-shirt with short sleeves.

He’s wearing black armbands over his forearms. Neil looks away and looks back, but it’s useless - Andrew’s already staring at him like he expects the question. 

“Armbands?” Neil asks, not really expecting any answer. Based on the beach a year ago, he’s pretty sure that Andrew isn’t particularly inclined to give away secrets. The memory brings back the detail of then, the knives Andrew kept in his clothes. He wonders if that’s what the bands are for.

“Stylistic choice,” says Andrew dryly. “How else would anyone be able to tell me from Aaron?” 

“You don’t look the same,” Neil replies. He’s being honest, at least. They really don’t look as much alike as everyone seems to think. 

“I’m sure that makes you feel special, being able to tell us apart.” 

Neil frowns. “It’s not hard. You don’t act the same, and you have different faces. Even being identical doesn’t cover it.” 

“I’d say it’s pretty close.” 

“You have different eye shapes, for one,” Neil starts, ticking his words off on his fingers to count all the things he’s observed in trying to tell them apart. He glances down at his Spanish homework and opts to leave it untouched, too curious to pull away from the conversation. “He looks more tired than you do, and his hair is less wavy.” Neil emphasizes this with a pointed look at the mess of curly waves on Andrew’s head. 

“You haven’t been close enough to either of us to tell that,” Andrew replies, sounding bored, despite the tension in the line of his shoulders. Neil takes it as a warning and points his attention elsewhere as he continues talking. 

“His voice is nothing like yours,” he adds, cutting off the rest of his observations. 

“Our voices have the same tone.” 

Neil looks up at him again and says, “That’s not what I mean.”  Andrew stares at Neil like he’s daring him to say something else, eyes flashing dangerously, though his expression hasn’t changed at all. 

“You’d think you’d spend more time worrying about yourself,” Andrew says finally, stepping forward. Neil takes a step back to put more space between them, ignoring the raise of Andrew’s eyebrow in response. “It’s not hard to figure out who the butcher’s son is. Especially when he looks so alike.” 

Neil stiffens, muscles tensing at the sound of the nickname. “The others don’t know,” he says, trying to keep his voice hushed despite the rush of anger in his system. “I’m not even supposed to be alive.” 

Andrew interrupts by shushing him, a placating sound that Neil last heard sometime when he was a child. Somehow it sounds violent coming from Andrew’s mouth.

“They won’t know unless you tell them. I’m not in the business of sharing anyone’s secrets.” The words are double edged, a warning and a promise at the same time. Neil breathes out, relieved, and tries to get his breath back. 

“If we’re sharing secrets, what are the bands for?” Neil asks, gesturing at the black, heavy cloth on Andrew’s arms. 

He stares blankly and reaches in one, tugging out the handle of a tiny blade and twirling it between his fingers. Neil flinches back out of reflex. 

“That’s new,” Andrew says, putting the knife away and letting Neil recompose himself for a moment. “They’ve talked about him. In the news - his choice of weapon. Is that why?” 

Neil nods, unable to say anything else, and Andrew lets the nonverbal response pass.

There’s a lack of balance now, a strange feeling like the weight is in Andrew’s corner and Neil is left without ground to stand on. He’s figuring this is a game of some kind, something of a give and take for questions. Then again, he can’t think of anything to ask, so he settles for, “Why does Aaron hate me?” 

Andrew scoffs. “He thinks you’re one of my hookups.” 

All Neil can manage is a dry gasp of, “What?” Andrew nods, looking unsurprised and unbothered. 

Neil feels dizzy even though he’s sitting down. 

“Why?” 

“I would assume because we’re sharing a room.” 

“We weren’t at first,” he responds weakly, running a hand through his hair. Andrew tracks the movement with his eyes, and it settles Neil a bit enough to feel his own fingers through his hair, letting the sensation ground him.

“He thinks I know you from before, probably. I haven’t asked him.” 

“Oh okay.” 

Neil can’t really think of anything else to respond to that. He’s not sure why it feels strange to think of - if it’s the assumption on his sexuality or the fact that Andrew doesn’t seem even the slightest bit bothered. If that means something about Andrew’s sexuality that he hasn’t disclosed yet.

“Okay,” Neil says again, swallowing hard, thinking even harder of something to say. “Are you watching the movie marathon tonight?” 

“Don’t know. It depends on what time I get out of work.”

Neil shakes off the residual shock and forces himself to nod, turning away to take a breath. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” Andrew responds, walking out. Neil hadn’t even noticed that he was getting ready for work until he saw Andrew step into the heavy black boots by his bed. He flicks one last look over his shoulder before he disappears out of the room. Downstairs, the door opens and squeaks shut, and Neil takes one last breath before starting his homework again. 

_____

By the time Neil comes downstairs, everyone’s assembled on the couch. Even Aaron’s there, sat to one side of Kevin with an annoyed look on his face. He ends up squeezing in to Kevin’s other side next to the arm of the couch, trying to get comfortable as Renee queues up different movies on her laptop. 

It’s an odd arrangement, especially given the fact that Neil’s never done this before, but he gets distracted from his discomfort when Nicky turns to him and asks for his favorite snacks.

“Uh. I don’t eat a lot of snacks,” he replies. “What are you guys getting?” 

Dan hums and pokes her head out from underneath Matt’s arm. “Each of us usually gets a pint of ice cream, or we share two to a flavor if we can agree.” At this, she shoots a pointed look at Matt, who’s already grinning down at her. 

“I get hot chips,” Nicky chimes in. “Andrew and Allison are the only ones who’ll eat  _ Takis _ . Sometimes Renee.” 

“I can chug a can of redbull and a pack of sour Skittles in under three minutes,” Seth croons. Allison cringes from her spot at his feet as Nicky laughs. “Yeah bet that tastes nice. I’ve never been more glad to have a vegetarian boyfriend.’

Seth glowers at him from his spot on the floor, placing his hands on Allison’s shoulders to pull her closer. “At least I live with her jackass.”   
“You live with all of us,” Kevin throws in, either uncaring or completely oblivious to the look he gets in return for pointing out the technicality. 

Renee clears her throat and volleys the question back to Neil. “So what would you like? We’re still deciding who goes later.” 

“Why doesn’t he go with Andrew since he doesn’t know what he wants,” Aaron says, his voice coming out more tight than usual. Neil wonders if Andrew said anything to him, or if he’s playing up to his own suspicions. Still, it’s probably the best idea, since the only other people likely to go with Andrew are Renee or Nicky. 

And really, if Aaron’s going to be mad anyway, Neil may as well go with it. 

“Yeah. I think I will.” 

Matt gives him a wary look. “I don’t know if Andrew’s going to want to go. He usually gets off work in a bad mood.”    


“That’s just how he is,” Kevin adds, and for once, no one disagrees with him. The room lapses into silence, and then eventually Renee says, “It’s up to you. We’ll figure it out when he gets here.” 

It’s only a few more minutes before the car sounds off in the driveway, Andrew walking in not even a minute later. The door was left unlocked (probably by Renee.)

Neil should probably tell them not to do that, given his track history of being found by people he was hiding from, but that’d take a lie or a half truth and it’s too much to give up for his safety. 

Then again, he could always tell Andrew, if they’re doing that weird sharing of truths thing.

Everyone seems to be holding their breath, or on some sort of precipice, so Neil stands up and just asks Andrew if he wants to go to the store, ignoring the surprised silence of the rest of the group. 

“Okay,” Andrew says. 

The silence rises for just a moment before Nicky breaks it with a soft laugh. The room seems to collapse under relief, everyone sinking further down into the cushions. Allison nudges Seth less than conspiratorially. 

“I’ll text you the stuff,” Renee says.

“I’ll send you the money,” Allison adds.

They walk out together, Neil shutting the door behind him softly and following Andrew out to his spot in the drive. 

“It’s a five minute walk to the corner store,” he says, tossing his keys up. “But I’d rather drive.” 

Neil spends the drive mulling over what to ask to see if they’re still asking questions, not coming up with anything until the moment Andrew parks and gets out of the car. 

He takes a brief glance at his phone and pockets it, waiting for Neil to walk in first before following him. Andrew goes straight into the freezer aisle, picking out pints of ice cream and different drinks from the coolers with ease and handing some to Neil. 

“Did you memorize it?” Neil asks, figuring that’s the best way to segue into his question. Andrew shakes his head, leaving it at that, and Neil tries calling up any evidence that he didn’t memorize the list. 

“Are you eidetic?” he tries, latching onto the way Andrew’s eyes shift towards him. 

“Make assumptions, much?” he replies, handing a purple bag of chips to Neil. 

“Observations,” Neil corrects, grabbing a candy bar off the side shelf for himself that looks less sweet than the other ones he’d seen. “Are you?” 

“The proper phrasing is,  _ do you _ , as in  _ do you have an eidetic memory _ ?” 

“So do you?” Neil asks again. Andrew takes their pile of snacks to the cashier, ignoring her dirty look when he dumps it all unceremoniously on the counter. 

“Why do you care?” Andrew asks. The scanner beeps slowly as Neil pauses to think over the question, not entirely sure why he can’t come up with a direct answer. 

“I knew you first,” he says slowly, trying to compartmentalize the strange familiarity he feels around Andrew. “Like we already have the start I guess.” 

Andrew pays and grabs the bags offered to him, before he says, “There is no we.” 

Neil rushes out after him to get into the passenger seat. “I know,” he says in response, studying Andrew to make sure he treads carefully. “It’s just strange. I’m exploring the coincidence.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew says dully. “You’re telling me you somehow ended up here, after having known me before this.” Neil watches Andrew’s free hand draw lines across his pants, leaving indents in the fabric from the force of his fingers. 

“It was a complete coincidence,” Neil argues, still watching to make sure he’s not making things worse. “What are the odds that I knew you’d come to South Carolina, of all places? It doesn’t make sense.”

“A lot of things don’t make sense,” Andrew responds. “They still happen. If I put the pieces together right, then I’m betting you’re great at keeping tabs on people. You must’ve been to survive.” 

The car rolls neatly to a stop in front of the house, and Neil says, “I was. But nothing about you was essential to my survival. I didn’t need to worry about you.” 

Andrew steps out of the car and flicks an indecipherable look at Neil. “Why do you care anyway?” 

He doesn’t wait for the answer, and truthfully, Neil doesn’t have one. 


	5. a late movie night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> movie night with the foxes: lots of talkin', relationship drama & neil is learning to be comfortable with where he is. oh also andrew is more interesting than neil originally thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'd think that a traumatized demisexual would be better at writing from neil's p.o.v huh ? you thought wrong. here's a late chapter update loves , i hope you enjoy it <3

It takes Neil a while to follow Andrew inside, more because his thoughts are stalling him in place than the fact that Andrew left most of the bags in the car.

By the time he gets inside, he realizes that Andrew took a single grocery bag with him - the one with Aaron, Nicky, and Renee’s stuff. Neil spies the purple bag of chips at his feet, as well as Matt and Dan’s ice cream orders which ended up in the same bag. He hands off the things when he gets in, risking a glance at Andrew and finding him staring away disinterestedly, studying his own pint of ice cream with a gleam in his eyes. Kevin’s sitting between him and Aaron now - which leaves Neil’s previous seat occupied - glaring openly at Andrew’s choice of snack. 

“Honestly, there are other options that won’t clog your arteries at twenty-five Andrew.” 

“And when they taste better than this, let me know. Eat your granola bar, Kevin.” 

Kevin takes a bite sullenly, turning his glare on Matt as he stifles a laugh in his arm. 

“Hey so what are we watching tonight?” Nicky asks. He gets up from the couch and Neil’s eyes dart to the unoccupied space. For a second, he contemplates taking the spot just so he can sit down somewhere, but Nicky comes back with spoons and napkins before he can even try.

Renee flicks through her phone, presumably through a list. “ _Antichrist_ ,” she starts. Dan flicks a significant look at Allison, who shrugs and leans back into Seth’s chest. “Trigger warning for a few things in that one. Everyone’s good tonight?” 

Neil watches as everyone nods, looking unfazed. 

“Neil? Good?” 

He nods dully, not really thinking too hard about it. _Mutilation_ seems too extreme a word for what his father did to him. He’s talked to various agents on his case who remind him about triggers and PTSD, and how it’d be “normal,” if he had a flashback after what he’s gone through. Still, it’s been years since that, years since his father, and years since the shit that his associates put him through when they finally caught up with he and his mother.

He’s fine. He can always hide in the bathroom if it bothers him. 

“Next is _Train To Busan_ , which is a zombie movie in Korean, and then finally _Pride and Prejudice_. And then we switch to anime.” 

Dan immediately shoots up, finger pointed boldly at Renee. “You _can’t._ We voted against anime because it makes people sleepy.” 

“Learn Japanese,” Andrew interrupts boredly. “It’s better if you don’t have to read.” 

“Some of us have jobs actually,” she fires back. 

“Some of us still have time for hobbies outside of work,” Andrew says. His eyes flick back to his ice cream container. “Renee?” 

She bites back a smile, but Dan catches it anyway. “I’ll pick a non-boring one,” Renee assures, “Trust me.” 

Dan nods begrudgingly, sinking back into her spot against Matt. 

Seth motions towards Neil. “Dude are you going to keep blocking the t.v. all night? Sit down.”

“You can sit by me,” Nicky laughs, “I don’t bite. Unless you like that.” He gets an elbow to his side and a few muttered words from Aaron, but mostly everyone else just groans. 

Neil looks around at the setting, trying to find a single open spot. There’s space by Renee on the floor, but her considering glance makes him feel uncomfortable already. Seth and Allison are comfortable in their sprawl, and probably the safest bet if he doesn’t want to be too close to anyone. But he remembers what Andrew said, and then remembers that he had a space that Andrew _took_ , so he moves forward and sinks down into the meager space between Andrew and the arm of the couch, ignoring the rest of the group’s shocked reactions. 

Neil thinks Matt gasped a little. 

Kevin says, “Okay so we start. Allison press play.” 

She flicks him off casually, leaning forward to press play on the laptop. There’s a white projection on the wall, and in his surprise, Neil turns to follow the transparent beam over their head, catching sight of a projector taped haphazardly to the corner on the wall and the roof. Andrew elbows his side to get him to sit down again, so Neil does, mustering up a sour look that Andrew pays no mind to. 

It’s hard to focus on glaring when there’s loud music, but he manages until someone whisper-yells, “Oh _fuck_.” 

Neil turns back to the screen and watches as a couple has sex in very slow motion, blanching at the black and white depiction. Andrew leans in close to his ear and whispers, “ _Don’t be the blushing virgin,”_ and Neil’s mind whirls with the sight and the feel of Andrew’s breath against his ear.

Andrew’s lip brushes his skin so quickly that it’s almost like Neil imagined it, and he pulls away so quickly that it might as well have been imagined.

It’s all he can think about for the next five minutes, even as the rest of the group shouts about the movie. Neil finally tunes back in as a child falls from the window, and is effectively captured for the next hour and a half. 

It’s shocking for sure, even without the mutilation. The grief of it is enough to shake Neil a bit, leaving him feeling scraped and vulnerable. Andrew catches on to his discomfort - he _must_ , with the way he’s consistently leaning over to make comments. Neil finds himself getting drawn in by the low roll of Andrew’s voice, nearly forgetting the unease roiling through him in favor of laughing at Andrew’s commentary.

It’s still early when they finish, but Nicky’s already rolled over with his head in his arms. 

“I’m resting my _eyes,_ ” he insists. It’s met by the sound of complaining, but eventually everyone settles and agrees that if he falls asleep, it’s on him. After five minutes, he sits back up, and everyone’s eyes dart over to him eagerly. 

Renee says, “Okay next one. Anyone need to break? Thoughts?” 

For once, everyone’s silent, so Neil fills the quiet.

“That was kind of fucked up. I mean the whole movie just seems like he hates women.” The observation is Andrew’s, but Neil agrees after really thinking about the entire movie.

“ _Exactly!_ ” Matt shouts. “Like the director _really_ made her the problem when her shitty husband was clearly the one being an asshole.”

“Renee that was awful,” Dan says, hiding her face in her hands. 

She responds with a small smile. “The one we watched last weekend was worse.” 

“Okay but that was Andrew’s pick,” she says into her fingers. “That was _expected_.” 

“There is nothing wrong with the movie I picked,” Andrew responds, spooning out the last of his ice cream. He snaps his fingers with a free hand. “Next movie Renee?” 

“Just giving everyone some time to process before the next one. It’s a bit sad.” 

Allison snaps her fingers as she sits up. “You picked a sad movie so people will cry and fall asleep faster.” 

Renee shrugs, smile widening just the slightest at the accusation, and Aaron grunts and asks for the movie to be played already. Neil watches his eyes droop over just slightly, meeting eyes with Kevin across from Andrew. His expression is indiscernible, but Neil could have sworn he was watching Aaron just a moment ago. 

“Bets on who cries?” Allison asks, just as Renee queues up the laptop. 

“Don’t you get enough money from your parents?” Kevin grumbles, prompting an eyeroll. Seth grunts out some vague dismissal in her defense.

“So yes? I bet Nicky, Matt, Dan, and Aaron cry.” 

“Hey-” Aaron starts, but he’s silenced when Kevin shushes him aggressively. 

“Can we _start_?” 

“Anyone betting against me,” Allison whispers. Andrew hands her a five from his pocket. So does Renee, and then eventually Dan passes over Matt’s money for him. 

Then the movie starts, and Neil is captured once again by it, almost holding his breath waiting for Andrew’s commentary. It feels like a secret, something tucked away from everyone else only for Neil.

“Me,” Andrew starts, as a person jumps from a train. 

Neil just barely stifles a laugh in the crook of his arm. Kevin says, “Bless you,” without turning towards him. 

It makes Neil laugh just a bit harder, and when he looks over to see Andrew’s mouth twitch, he almost loses it. 

“Oh no Neil,” Allison coos from the floor. “Are you crying already? I didn’t bet on that.” 

Neil shakes his head, flattening his mouth to keep his smile from bursting out. “No, no. I just need to sneeze. I’ll be right back.”

He stands up on wobbly legs to get to the bathroom and collapses with his back to the sink, finally letting his laugh come through. The feeling of the night burns its way through him, lightening his chest and making him feel at ease almost instantly. It’s an odd feeling, and thinking too much about it makes his head start to spin again, so he stops. 

Neil gets his breath back easily, settling against the counter and taking one final deep breath before stepping back out, grabbing a tissue from the dispenser on the counter. 

“Good, man?” Matt asks, and Neil nods, sitting back down in his spot. He’s not sure if Andrew’s closer than before or if he’s imagining the way their legs are pressing together. He holds his breath for three seconds and then Andrew recedes, and Neil feels oddly heady, like when he had to down half a bottle of wine so his mom could redo his stitches. 

“You missed the best part,” Andrew mumbles quietly. 

Someone on screen screams, bolstering Neil to lean over and whisper back, “What was it?” 

He’s close enough to see the flush blossom along Andrew’s neck, knows that it means _something_ \- maybe just that he’s uncomfortable. Neil moves back in case, returning Andrew’s stare. 

“What?” he mouths, so he doesn’t gain anyone’s attention. 

Andrew shakes his head once, almost disbelieving, and turns his attention back to the movie. Neil’s about to prod his side to regain his attention, but then he reevaluates, deciding against physical contact. Instead, he leans just close enough to get Andrew’s attention again, and mouths the question again. 

“It was nothing important,” he whispers finally, ignoring Aaron’s glare when he hears Andrew’s voice. Neil counts to ten in his head as he watches the movie, not bothering to look at Aaron until he’s calmer. It doesn’t work; the second he looks over, his irritation makes a stubborn reappearance. The feeling only dissipates when he looks at Andrew and notices the flash of his eyes. 

Neil doesn’t know whether he feels more provoked or sated - provoked because it seems like Andrew is telling him to calm down, sated because his curiosity over Andrew’s protective streak has snubbed out the flare of his anger. 

He’ll ask about that later, if they get the chance to talk about it. 

Neil’s thoughts are interrupted by Nicky bawling.

Neil looks around and catches Matt wiping a stray tear from his eye, Dan with a solid stare on the screen, tears rolling down her face. And finally, his eyes land on Aaron. Allison calls him out for his glossy eyes before anyone. 

“Pay up babes!” 

“Bro you just watched someone _die_ ,” Matt sniffles, “Could you at least wait for the _end_?” 

She pouts at him. “Since you already paid, I’ll let you off.” 

Andrew only looks half surprised that Aaron was the breaking point of the bet. 

“Did you bet against her on purpose?” Neil asks, quietly. There’s no need for it - the yelling in the movie and Nicky’s whimpered sobbing muffles everything else in the room. He’s only half been paying attention, but he’s pretty sure it’s not sad enough to warrant _that_ type of reaction. Then again, even Andrew looks a little caught up in it, jaw clenched and barely blinking. 

“I didn’t think Dan would break it,” Andrew admits, not looking away from the screen. “She doesn’t cry often during movie nights. We’ve already seen the saddest ones and nothing.” 

Neil hums, turning back to the screen to watch. He doesn’t even realize it’s ending until it’s over. Nicky’s snoring. So is Kevin, head tilted back against the couch. 

“Crying put them to sleep,” Allison crows. “Two down.” 

Renee turns to look at her. “Seth too. Send them up?” 

Aaron shoves Nicky’s shoulder, waking him up immediately. Next goes Seth and Kevin, woken by Nicky’s complaint about the movie choice.   
“You’re horrible. Absolutely dreadful. I am going to fucking sleep Renee, _eres malvada_.” 

Neil blinks in recognition, filing away the information that Nicky can speak Spanish. He wonders if that’ll ever be useful. 

Dan and Matt head outside to stretch and get air, leaving Renee to turn back to Neil. Allison shuffles close to her and rests her head in her lap, turning Renee’s face into soft surprise.

“So what do you think of movie night, Neil?” she asks, smiling softly at him. Neil decides that it’s easier to look at her at night when he can’t see her eyes properly. 

“I like the movies,” he admits, because he didn’t _dislike_ them. And he likes sitting here next to Andrew and having mini conversations, even if Andrew ignores him for the most part. 

“If you stay up late enough, maybe you’ll get to pick next week.”

“Maybe.” 

Andrew slumps further into the couch and occupies Kevin’s old space, putting distance between them. Neil feels strangely disappointed by it, opting to stand and make himself tea in the kitchen instead of dwelling too much on why. It’s been easier so far to ignore what he’s feeling in favor of trying to figure it out. All that matters is that he’s alive and fine, and nothing else.

To his surprise, Andrew follows him into the kitchen, lifting himself to sit on the counter and stare Neil down while he pours the water over his tea bag. 

“What?” he asks finally, setting the mug aside to look for the honey. 

“Tea is disgusting,” Andrew says, prompting Neil to frown even though his face is stuck in the cabinet, and Andrew can’t see him anyway. He shuts the door after another pointless scan. 

“Have you seen the honey jar?” he asks, turning to Andrew and finding the jar in his palms, one finger already scooping some out.

“There’s spoons,” he remarks, fighting the curve of his smile. Andrew shrugs and sticks his finger in his mouth while Neil watches, waiting for him to hand it over. When Andrew doesn’t, he frowns and reaches out for it. 

“Pass me the honey for my tea?” Neil asks, a half question. He wonders if he should’ve said please, but there’s some dangerous flashing in Andrew’s eyes, something stiff about the way he hands it over that tells Neil to ask about it. 

“Not big on manners?” 

Andrew’s face flattens out into its normal bored expression before he answers. “Manners are pointless. People do what they want at the end of the day, with or without them.”

“Fair,” Neil concedes, still wondering if there’s a further reason. “What was earlier?” Neil asks, concluding that Andrew can figure out exactly what he’s talking about.

“Earlier?”

Or maybe not.

“Aaron. Could you tell that I was annoyed with your brother’s shitty attitude?” 

There again. A flash of his eyes when he looks up to stare at Neil, some dangerous glint that reappears. Neil feels something like dread and excitement roll over him when Andrew stares in that way, his curiosity peaking at the strong reaction. 

“I don’t want problems. Aaron’s my brother and I swore to take care of him. Don’t make me hold up that promise against you.” 

“Just him?” Neil asks, goaded. In the living room, he hears the start of the next show, some angry sounding music flowing through the speakers. He hears Matt gasp, followed by a short, “ _No, Renee, why?_ ”

“You’ve asked too many questions maybe. Slow down there Abram.” 

“It’s just Neil,” he says. His voice is sharp, even to himself.

“Slow down then, just-Neil.” 

Andrew slides off the counter and starts heading to the living room. 

“Then ask me something,” Neil says. “Anything. Then we’re balanced.”

Andrew stills in the archway. “I have nothing to ask you.” 

But there’s something about the set of his shoulders that tells Neil otherwise. 

______

The anime that Renee chose is tragic. It’s about this kid in New York trapped in gang life who meets someone who’s from a completely different world.

Neil stops watching after the fourth episode when the unease creeps back in again.

It’s about three in the morning now. Aaron fell asleep three minutes into the first episode. Dan is barely hanging on, head tilted downwards while she cradles Matt’s head in her arms. After a while, Dan taps him and they stand together, disappearing into their room. Allison and Renee are settled together on the floor, Renee looking serene with Allison’s head in her lap. 

Neil asks if they’re going to sleep, to which Allison snorts subduedly at. 

“I think so,” Renee mumbles. Her fingers are still in Allison’s hair and she looks down, flashing from calm to pained in a moment, then reverting back.

Neil wonders what that’s about, but opts to ask Andrew when they leave to see if there’s an answer at all.

“Congratulations,” Allison yawns, sitting up. She grabs Renee’s hand and presses her palm to her own face while looking at Neil. “You and Andrew get movie picking privilege next week.” 

Renee smiles softly, standing and shuffling to her room with Allison close behind. She calls out softly, “You guys can change it. I have Netflix and Hulu.” 

Once the door shuts, Neil turns to Andrew.

“Are you tired?” he asks, to which Andrew shakes his head. 

“I thought Allison was dating Seth,” Neil says next, unsure of whether he should continue or not. Andrew tilts his head, assessing. “Everyone knows Seth and Allison don’t work. They’re always on and off.” 

“So she and Renee?” 

“Friends,” is all Andrew says. Neil takes the truth for what it is. 

“You still have nothing to ask me?” 

Andrew’s mouth twitches again. “Not a thing.” 

“Okay,” Neil says. Even if he’s sure he’s right, he’s not going to push it if Andrew’s resisting this much. “Could I ask you something else then?” 

“Not unless I come up with a question for you,” Andrew replies, pulling his phone from the pocket of his sweats. 

“Okay,” Neil says again. Andrew nods and keeps staring down at his phone, tapping at the screen occasionally. When Andrew tilts his screen back, Neil catches a glimpse of the game he’s playing. 

Neil stares at the projector for a few moments more before he stands up and fiddles with Renee’s laptop. He’s watched Matt scroll through Hulu a few times, looking for something to play while he’s waiting for Dan to get out of the shower. Eventually, Neil lands on a bright cartoon that appeals to him. 

He clicks on it, going back to the kitchen to make more tea and ignoring Andrew’s soft sigh from behind him. 

The sound of footsteps precedes Andrew’s voice, but Neil still feels a current run through him when he hears him come in to the room.   
“ _Steven Universe_?” he asks. Neil turns to him and blinks before looking back at the kettle of water. 

“Is that your question?” he returns after a moment, testing the line he’s drawn up between them. 

Andrew sighs. “If it is, that just makes us even again. You don’t get to ask me anything else.” 

“I just figured you’d prefer the questions be meaningful ones.” 

In the time before Andrew answers, the kettle finishes boiling. Neil pours it over his tea bag, waiting.

“Doesn’t have to be meaningful,” Andrew says finally. It feels like a subtle branch extended. 

“Okay. _Steven Universe,_ yeah. It looked bright.” 

Neil leans against the counter and Andrew moves forward into his space. He searches every corner of his mind for discomfort, checking to see if he feels trapped. 

It feels more like being pinned, in a good way. Like this corner of the counter is the last safe space on Earth and maybe Andrew is the last thing keeping him safe. He doesn’t quite like the thought - feels like he’s pinning his safety on someone who didn’t offer to keep him safe. 

“If I ask what you meant about protecting Aaron, would you tell me?” Neil asks, swaying further away from the edge of the counter. 

Andrew stares at him, searching for a reason maybe. 

“I might,” he responds. Neil notices the lower rasp to his voice, buzzing softly and burning a hole through the quiet of the kitchen. Neil stares at Andrew’s hair instead of his eyes, silently captured by the glint of it in the low light.

“Not tonight?” Neil steps off the counter unthinkingly, falling into Andrew’s space and bracing for the hit. Andrew takes a step back, but doesn’t move too far, and doesn’t flinch forward. Something is happening between them that Neil can’t be sure of, something warm and unknown. A balance of trust and familiarity that feels entirely out of his control.

“Not tonight,” Andrew repeats. They lapse into silence, and when Andrew leaves the kitchen behind to go upstairs, Neil watches the cartoon until he falls asleep. 

He shuts his eyes as the sun comes up, trying his hardest to scrape up any of his usual anxiety to prove _something._ Maybe that he’s not too far from himself, from surviving. Instead, he falls asleep warm, thinking of Kevin’s tirade about the zombie movie from earlier and the shifting colors of Andrew’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey all ! been very busy with school work (semester is almost over so am CRAMMING a shit ton of assignments) 
> 
> very sorry for the late update but here it is ! hope you guys enjoy and leave a comment if you liked it <3
> 
> stay safe my loves - wear a mask, finish your homework, and please make sure you're taking good care of yourselves


	6. the beginning of settling (and a surprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neil finds himself getting more accustomed to his life, despite the bumps in the road. then andrew throws another thing his way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this ,, a good chapter ? no. 
> 
> is it long though ?? kinda. and is it a very, VERY late update? yeah. 
> 
> been busy with the semester ending my loves. apologies for the time gone, but am back with an update and some new momentum. apologies for any ooc-ness or bad grammar or general poorness. but here it is, limping along. this chapter is her own little neil josten, falling apart, but "just fine"

The day after movie night is normal, as are the next days after. On Monday, Neil goes in for his interview and is met by another tall man (which makes far too many that he’s met so far) who offers him a job the second that it’s over. The German accent straining through his English sets Neil on edge thinking of Germany, and his father’s associates tracking him down again, but Erik is less threatening than Nicky. 

He also offers Neil the job after two questions, which is odd, but not more so than anything else that’s happened to him. He assumes Nicky had something to do with it, or maybe Erik is just that amiable. 

That strange feeling surrounding Neil lingers for so long that he almost forgets to question what it is. 

He spends most of Tuesday’s class in a haze, trying to put his finger on how he feels, ignoring the class lecture in favor of identifying the mix of knots in his stomach and skipping heartbeats.

He recognizes it as anxiety, a slow chill working its way between his bones. And then it shifts and he’s not sure  _ what _ it is, just that it prompts more sleepless nights, wasted thinking and staring at Andrew as he reads before falling asleep at night, scrabbling for answers. 

Erik texts him in between classes with the work schedule for the week - it’s only nights, from four to whenever the library closes. Neil’s glad he stuck with morning classes, even if he hasn’t figured out what he’s doing yet. It leads to graduating, and then getting a real job - doing more with his life even if he never expected to. 

The thought makes him uneasy, and when he gets home, he realizes it’s not so different from the first feeling. 

The realization starts, ironically, with Aaron. 

Neil’s washing his dishes from lunch when Aaron comes in, hugging a stack of books and his laptop to his chest. Neil watches him struggle for a moment before deciding it’d be best to try to make peace - mostly because he’s tired of sharing glares. As he dries his hands on the dish towel, Aaron turns to him, anticipating Neil’s next move. 

“Mind your fucking business,” he sneers, turning away to place the books on the table. One slips off and lands on the floor, worn out binding collapsing against the weight. Neil remembers Andrew’s hidden warning and shuts his mouth tight. He can’t, however, hide the smug look on his face at Aaron’s misfortune after being rude. 

“What are you smirking at?” Aaron says, watching closely, and Neil  _ really  _ doesn’t want to get into this shit right now. 

He settles for a toned down response. “Why are you watching me?” 

Aaron scoffs. “I’m not interested, okay?”    


“And I don’t want you,” Neil replies, gritting his teeth. He turns the water in the sink down. “Trust me, I have no interest in you.” 

“We’re twins, you know. Wouldn’t surprise me if you were into that fag shit.”

Neil places the plate down calmly, and then turns to Aaron. 

“I don’t know where you got this delusion in your head that Andrew and I are together,” he starts, voice barely keeping still. His tone still trembles carefully with anger, as much as he tries to hold back. “But we’re not. And I genuinely have  _ no  _ interest in you, no matter  _ what _ you look like. You know why that is? It’s because you’re irritating and insufferable, and I can barely stand to deal with your shitty attitude, much less find you attractive. And whether or not I am with Andrew is really none of your business, at all.” 

“So you  _ are _ with him?” Aaron spews, red-faced. 

“How is that the only part you absorbed from all that? Is your brain that small or do you just lack common sense?” 

Matt shuffles into the kitchen just as Aaron slams his book on the table, and wedges himself between them. 

“ _ Hey _ , what the actual fuck are you doing?” he asks. Neil knows it’s directed at both of them, but chooses to ignore it, knowing Aaron will probably spew some shit. He closes his eyes and counts to ten back and forth in German.    


“He’s the one going off on me!” Aaron spits. Neil catches a glimpse of his face behind Matt and stiffens, reminded of Andrew for a moment. 

Matt turns on Neil, and Neil says, “Like I didn’t have a reason. He’s being a dick.” 

And then Allison walks into the room with Seth trailing her like a puppy, and everyone’s attention shifts to them. 

“Aaron?” she asks, and Seth snorts out, “Who else?” in reply. 

“Shut up Seth,” Aaron and Matt say in unison. 

Neil catches Allison’s eye and says, “I’m going upstairs.” Matt turns to him with a cautious look in his eye, and Aaron takes the distraction to lean over his shoulder. 

“Everything was fine before you got here.”    


“You seem to be the only one who has a problem with me. Literally just ignore me if it bothers you so much,” Neil shoots back. 

With that, he climbs upstairs to the room, and pushes the door open unthinkingly. 

Andrew’s there sitting on the bed, shirt unruly, with another man laid back on the floor with his arms stretched above his head. Neil’s mind runs in circles, trying to forget what happened downstairs while he processes the sight of a stranger in their room. 

“Get out Roland,” Andrew says. Neil notices the strain in his voice, adds it to the major context clues, and wishes he was out of the room. 

“Guess I’m lucky I got the five minutes,” he (apparently Roland) pants from the floor. Neil watches the stranger stand on unsteady legs, pulling on his shirt as he goes and zipping his pants. 

“Bye Neil,” he says on the way out, and Neil feels himself stiffen uncomfortably at the sound of his name. 

As soon as the door shuts, Neil holds Andrew’s eyes to avoid looking at the rest of his disheveled state. It works only for a moment before Neil glances down at Andrew’s mouth - his lips are red and Neil wonders if they’d been kissing before he interrupted. 

“How did he know my name?” is all Neil can manage to ask. All the fight from his conversation with Aaron is drained from his body under the surprise. 

“Mentioned that I have a roommate,” Andrew answers. He’s not looking away from Neil either, eyes blazing golden and unabashed. There’s a blush spilling out over Andrew’s cheeks as well - Neil can’t figure out if it’s from sex or because he’s been caught. 

“Mentioned it by name?”

Andrew nods. Neil stares, and then says, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Andrew agrees. Neil rocks back on his heels. 

“You had time to tell him my name?” 

Andrew’s stare turns more curious now than before, and Neil leans into it, eager to distract himself from the argument downstairs. 

“I mentioned it. He’s not just a random fuck, I work with him.” 

“Oh okay.” 

“Done with the questions? Why was Aaron yelling downstairs?” 

So much for distraction. Neil braces himself before giving the truth, counting backwards in German. 

“Because I tried helping him pick up his shit before it fell, and he thinks I’m in a relationship with you, apparently.” 

Just saying it makes Neil lose his place with numbers and reignites the anger he tried so hard to tamp down, and Andrew steps forward to say, “I thought I told you I don’t like problems.” 

“No,” Neil says, tilting his chin up. It works well to avoid Andrew’s eyes, which works out well until he grabs Neil’s chin and forces it down to meet his gaze.

“No,” Neil repeats, “You said that you didn’t want problems. Don’t blame me for your brother being a dick. I tried making peace and there’s no point now. Call him off.” 

“He doesn’t think we’re together, he just doesn’t like the idea of us fucking.”    


“Well we’re  _ not, _ ” Neil huffs. “So call him the fuck off. Does he not know about your coworker?”    


“Roland’s good at sneaking out without being seen. And even then, Aaron isn’t going to do anything.” 

“Then why  _ me _ .”

Andrew releases his chin. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not you. Don’t make it your problem.” 

Neil laughs dryly. “Yeah I don’t plan on it.” 

Andrew scrutinizes him, and then turns away promptly, heading downstairs. Aaron’s voice rises up within minutes, followed by the quieter roll of Andrew’s voice. 

Neil realizes that night as he’s falling asleep that this - the fighting and the tension - means something. Not that it’s good, not at all. But holding grudges has never worked in his favor - not with his mother, who emphasized he got over it for their chances of survival. Certainly not with his father, who made him pay sorely for every spat of attitude at an important dinner. 

So this, the fact that he’s able to hold a grudge and get into stupid arguments, bursts some hope wide open in his chest. Despite the inevitable nightmares that come later, he falls asleep peacefully for the first time in years.

\-----

The second step is Allison. 

Namely, Allison stopping him the next afternoon when he gets back from class.    


“Do you work today?” she asks, and Neil thinks back to his schedule. He was thankful that it was sparse, but seeing Allison now makes him wary of that. 

“Not until Thursday. And then I’m off Fridays through Monday.”

“Why is Erik so confusing with his times,” she frowns. “So you work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday?” 

Neil nods, still glancing warily at the purse wrung out between Allison’s hands. “Why?”

“You realize how long you’ve been here? And how many outfits you’ve worn in that time?” 

Neil glances down at his shirt. He only has twelve in total, and this dark grey one is his favorite. 

“Uh,” he responds eloquently. 

“We’re going shopping. If that’s okay with you, of course.” 

Neil looks around. “You and I?” 

Allison gestures up the stairs. “And Renee.” 

Neil thinks of her intense, silent scrutiny and shudders. “Don’t you guys have class?” 

Renee pads down the stairs silently, stepping into a pair of heeled boots. “Both online,” she chimes in, “Neither of us can stand being in a class.” 

“Oh,” Neil says, mostly because he can’t think of anything else to say. 

“So we’re going?”    


Neil, despite his hesitations, is suddenly extremely aware of the hole in his sock.    


He sighs. “Let me get my wallet.” 

Allison places her arm in front of him. “No need, my dear. I have mine. Consider it a treat for putting Aaron in his place yesterday.” 

He blinks at her. “Not like nobody else has bitched him out already,” he responds, but from the glance she turns on Renee, Neil thinks again, startled. 

“Oh definitely not,” Allison says, “Everyone’s too scared of Andrew. But since you guys are banging, I guess he chilled out a bit.” 

Neil isn’t even surprised at this point. He uses the energy to bite back his annoyance, and he’s surprised that it’s more curious now. “Can I ask why everyone thinks that?”    
Renee tilts her head, but doesn’t offer any words. Allison just shrugs and says, “Andrew’s not one for sudden change. Then you show up and suddenly he moves out and starts bringing his hookup home.” 

“We should go,” Renee interjects. Allison meets her stare coolly, then nods and slides on her own shoes, Neil slipping out the door behind them without another word. He contemplates her words for the whole drive there.

\-----

Neil doesn’t realize how packed the mall is until Allison points it out, shuffling between a group of babbling toddlers as she frowns. 

He doesn’t think much about it until he’s alone for a moment, wedged between clothing racks and pressing his fingers into the seam of the jackets. And then it hits him, that he hasn’t felt the familiar swell of panic of the rising crowds, or counted for exits, or glanced at each face in passing. It’s such a startling realization that it takes his breath away, and for a second he feels dizzy as he takes in the store around him. 

_ When was the last time he could catch his breath surrounded by so many people? _   


He hasn’t been scanning faces or been careful at all, somehow getting absorbed in Allison’s idle chatter and Renee’s observations about the passerby, or their classmates. 

It’s dangerous. But it doesn’t escape him what it means - the same as what happened with Aaron. Allison buys him three pairs of jeans, five new pairs of socks, and four sweaters, and Neil changes into one of the sweaters in the bathroom at the mall. 

And because it’s dangerous, and because nothing happened despite that danger, Neil lets himself be lulled to sleep in the car ride home, nightmare free. 

\-----

Once he recognizes the difference, he can’t stop seeing it, and as much as he wants to ignore the dregs of hope that keep rising up, it’s not something he’s used to, can’t just will it away. 

Neil Josten - runaway and the Butcher’s son - is attending movie nights with his roommates. In school and working, and making what he thinks could be called friends. It’s a better version of life than he ever expected. 

Granted, things are never simple for long. 

On Saturday night, Neil goes upstairs to grab his blanket before the marathon starts - a soft grey one that Matt got him as a gift - and is shocked to find his door locked. 

_ Andrew’s at work _ , he thinks.    


All at once, his heart drops to the floor, his hands instantly finding their way into his hair to ground himself. In the second that he spends processing every horrible reason why his door might be locked, it swings open, revealing Roland yet again. 

“I’m going, Andrew. Hello, Neil.” 

All the tension inside Neil deflates, leaving behind a flood of relief.

Andrew appears behind him, looking neat and clean aside from his mussed up hair. Neil takes in his appearance carefully this time, wondering if he always looks so composed even in the middle of a hookup. Part of Neil wonders what makes Andrew come undone, but the train of thought feels almost inappropriate, so he abandons the thought in favor of entering the room. 

“I just need to grab my blanket,” he explains, and Andrew shuffles aside. Neil turns to him with the bundle in hand. “Are you coming down for movies? I don’t know how to tell anyone that I haven’t picked them out yet.” Neil swallows down the hope swelling in his chest at the thought of repeating another movie night, listening to Andrew's commentary. 

“What are they going to do with you?” Andrew mutters, grabbing a bottle of water from his desk and taking a drink. It sounds like an agreement (Neil's heart thumps erratically in his chest at the words. He watches him swallow, looking for any hint of dishevelment and finding none. 

“So you’ll come to pick something out?”    


Andrew stares at Neil, then nods resolutely, heading downstairs while Neil follows closely behind. 

Despite the fact that Roland just came downstairs, it seems like no one in the living room saw him leave. This, based on the fact that everyone does a wild sweep of Andrew and Neil, observing intently. Even Neil can figure what they’re thinking - although it takes him Aaron’s curled lip to really get it. 

He could say something about it, but Andrew’s taken control of the laptop already and nobody really brings it up. Neil catches Matt sliding a few bills from his pocket and nudging them into Allison’s waiting hands. 

He slides into his spot from last week and holds his breath until Andrew turns around. With a guarded expression, he slides in next to Neil too, keeping a fair distance between them. Within minutes, Andrew starts his whispered commentary just like last week, and Neil settles in and ignores the warm feeling in his chest. 

The last thing Neil remembers before falling asleep is Andrew’s voice in his ear, and feeling oddly warm. 

\-----

He wakes up the next morning on the couch in his corner, Andrew sprawled out on the floor with his back to the couch. His breaths are rising easily, chest dipping more slow than Neil has ever seen before. 

He stands up and heads into the kitchen to make tea, running into Nicky on the counter, phone in hand. There’s a gleam in his eye that Neil stays wary of as he reaches for the tea box. 

“So,” Nicky says. The gleam, Neil realizes, is sadness. Or some sort of disappointment. Or maybe he’s just plain concerned. Neil watches him wring his hands together, tugging at his fingers and fidgeting with the sleeve of his cardigan. 

“I really don’t think Andrew is the type to be a boyfriend,” Nicky says slowly. Neil breathes just as slowly through his teeth and says, “Okay,” grabbing the honey from the cabinet. 

“So,” Nicky says again, hopping up on the counter. “I think that if you want a relationship, you should look somewhere else. I can hook you up with one of my friends from class?” 

Neil turns to Nicky, tuning in properly now. “What makes you think that I want a boyfriend?” 

Nicky stammers, his own mug tilting slightly in his hand as he gestures quickly. Neil reads the text on the side:  _ World’s Best Dad.  _

“Well just in case,” Nicky explains, face taking on that remorseful expression again. “I know Andrew doesn’t really date, and I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

“Okay,” Neil says again. He presses the tea bag against the side of the mug with a spoon, letting the rest of the tea ebb out before he scoops it up and throws it out.

“Good talk,” Nicky says dryly, offering a gentle smile. Neil tries to twist his mouth to match but he feels it come out flat, corners of his mouth glued downwards. 

He doesn’t even make it halfway up the stairs before he hears Nicky’s voice drifting from the kitchen, words frantically spewed in German. A glance at the couch shows that Andrew is missing, so Neil grabs a bottle of water from the pantry on his way up and takes it with him, pushing the door open with his foot. 

Andrew’s on the windowsill, lighting up with a slow blink in Neil’s direction. Neil is reminded of the small stray cat outside the hall of his math class, a black fuzzy creature with distrustful eyes and a taste for the small pieces of ham Neil steals from the fridge to feed her with. He hands over the water bottle, taking Andrew’s silence as an invitation to talk.    


“Nicky asked if I wanted him to hook me up with someone, because you’re not the boyfriend type.” 

Andrew, for all his tiredness, manages to look surprised. “That’s faster than he tried matching Aaron. He usually waits a bit longer before pestering about relationships.” 

“Do they really just assume we’re together based on us sharing a room? I basically know nothing about you.” 

Which isn’t necessarily true, but it feels safer than going along with the accusations. The back and forth questions have yielded enough information for Neil to deduce Andrew on the surface level, figuring out the small details about him and then filling in the deeper ones based on his observations, and what others have said. 

What he knows: Andrew is interesting, and Neil likes talking to him. He’s honest, and more solid than anyone else in Neil’s life has been. He’s not sure what else could make the others think they’re hooking up - Andrew isn’t quite conventionally attractive, though Neil doesn’t know enough people to gauge it exactly. 

“You know more than anyone else,” he responds, finally turning his eyes on Neil. He’s obscured momentarily by a cloud of smoke, but he catches Andrew’s gaze drifting down to his lips anyway, feels his eyes sticking and not pulling away.    


“Have they asked  _ you _ about us?” Neil asks. 

“There is no us,” Andrew says, exhaling more smoke. His voice is rough and almost grating, sending shivers up Neil’s spine. “And no they haven’t. Nicky knows that he won’t get an answer.” 

“Do they  _ seriously  _ not know about Roland?” Neil asks. Andrew only shakes his head in response. 

“Well can you make it a little more obvious then?”    


“Sure,” Andrew says, stubbing out his cigarette and blowing the last remains of smoke into Neil’s face. He keeps his expression blank, but by Andrew’s quirked brow, he heard Neil’s breath catch to breathe it in. 

\-----

Neil has to wait for Andrew to make it obvious, apparently. The week passes like normal - school, work, runs around campus in the morning and again at night when he gets off work. On the next movie night, when everyone is gathered in the living room, there’s a thump from upstairs. 

Neil watches Nicky’s eyes shift upwards with a worried glance. 

“Someone call Andrew so we can start,” Kevin huffs, and Neil is already standing to grab his blanket anyway. 

Being obvious becomes a problem when he walks into the locked door, and it stays locked even when he knocks. 

He knocks again, calling Andrew’s name once, and then again. 

Irritation flashes bright in his chest like fireworks, and Neil curses under his breath before getting to his knees to yell under the door. He’s about to say Andrew’s name again when it swings open, revealing someone’s - Roland, Neil observes when he gets up - socked feet. Neil pushes past him, ignoring the greeting he gives in passing as he walks out.    


“This is my room too,” Neil says, still huffing with annoyance. Neil studies Andrew, searching for the telltale flush on his face, or some sort of indecency, but there’s nothing except an amused expression on his face. 

“You asked me to make it obvious. Do you propose I do that some other way?” 

“All you have to do is set Nicky straight about it when he asks or brings it up.” 

“And I told you already, he doesn’t ask me,” Andrew says, tossing Neil his blanket. “I don’t know what exactly you want me to do about it.” 

“It doesn’t even matter,” Neil says, suddenly deflating. “Could you just not lock me out unless you actually need to?” 

Andrew nods, then says, without looking away from Neil, “You could be locked in with me.” 

Neil stumbles just a bit on his way towards the door. “What?”    


“If you wanted to," Andrew responds. Neil reminds himself to breathe in. Andrew continues, "Do that. So Nicky leaves you alone.” 

The world tilts under Neil’s feet and he places a hand on the door frame to keep himself steady. “Like hook up. Just so he can leave me alone?”

Andrew nods, and Neil silently wonders how he holds eye contact at moments like this. “I’ve never done anything like that,” Neil says. He doesn’t say no, but Andrew nods anyway and steps out the door, effectively cutting off the conversation before he can say anything. 

Neil waits just a few moments more, breathing in deep, before following him downstairs with his mind spinning still. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading dears ! let me know what you think or any ideas you're having about the progression of this <3
> 
> everyone stay very safe pls (wear your mask) and i hope y'all have a lovely time with any holiday that you might be celebrating now dears !


	7. thinking thoughts and a conclusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this is nearly a month late, when i said that i would try to update weekly. yes it's going to shit, but most plans do ! 
> 
> here's chapter seven, loves. i hope you like it , and i hope y'all are staying safe and careful

Andrew withdraws like he was never there in the first place, which is as good as it is bad. 

Good, because Neil supposes he needs time to process the truth laid on him. He hasn’t exactly figured out the layers to it - that Andrew finds him attractive is obvious, but he knows there’s more complicated versions of that truth that led to his proposal in the first place. 

He’s not stupid enough to believe that Andrew suggested it solely to get Nicky off his back. 

That’s where the bad comes in. Everyone in the house notices the distance between them, even if they don’t say anything directly. It starts Nicky’s onslaught once again, from the moment Neil wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. 

On Monday morning, Nicky leaves a note taped on the tea box for something called, “Grindr.” 

Neil discovers that it’s a dating app when he looks it up, and promptly crumples up the note before going to class. 

The next time Nicky intercepts him is in the library, right as his shift is ending. Neil laments the shattering of quiet as soon as he sees him - the room Neil’s in is empty, and Nicky’s idea of whispering is rasping his voice at the same volume he always speaks. 

He blinks slowly as a series of words fall from Nicky’s mouth, all nonsensical. 

Neil must look as confused as he feels, because Nicky pauses before waving a hand in front of his face. 

“Oh. The  _ POC  _ part stands for a person of color, so anyone who isn’t white.  _ GSA _ for gay-straight alliance. It’s mostly because the only club for LGBT people on campus was overrun with racists. South Carolina, you know? So much for diversity.” 

Neil stands from his crouch on the floor where he’d been reshelving books, brushing away the dirt on his black jeans. He lets his eyes wander over the room, taking in the big shelves and colorful books around him. “What did you need again?”

Nicky hands over the flyer. It’s wrinkled from being gripped so tightly, but Neil can make out the words well enough. “You want me to go. With you?” 

Erik appears behind them then, laughing as he rests his chin on Nicky’s head. “No. There’s always a few people that don’t bring dates. He’s asking if you’d like to go with one of them.” 

Neil squints. “You’re part of it?” Erik looks as white as Neil - even though Neil’s never been entirely sure of his own heritage.    
“His mom’s black,” Nicky explains. “Barely looks like it though, right?” 

Neil studies his face a bit more, taking in different features and gauging. Erik smiles then, turning Neil’s gaze away from him, down to his bag on the floor. He tugs it up onto his shoulder.    
“I’m white, I think,” Neil says. “That’d kinda be against the point of the club right?” 

Nicky smiles, undeterred by Neil’s concealed refusal. If anything, he seems brighter somehow. “So it’s not because you’re straight?” 

So that explains his enthusiasm. Neil sighs, turning back to the last of the books. “I don’t know. I don’t really do that. With anyone.” 

Nicky still seems eager, but Erik whispers something quiet in his ear and tells Neil he can go for the night. With that, Neil steps away, hands pressed into his pockets. He hasn’t stopped to let himself think about it, but with Nicky pressing the bruise so often, he can’t really avert his train of thought any longer. 

He thinks about it on the run he takes after work, when the world is so quiet that he  _ can’t  _ focus on anything else. It rains as he’s walking home, and he catches sight of his face in every puddle, features blurring and obscuring his eyes, and still his thoughts circle around and around - sexuality and sex in general, and Nicky and his misguided insistence.  _ What’s the point, really? _ Neil wonders. 

He has everything he needs currently without sex, much less a relationship. Besides that, there’s not much  _ want  _ laced into his life. He wants to stay safe, wants to keep everyone else safe.  _ Want _ . It makes him think of Andrew, his casual offer, as if it didn’t shift everything off the shelf in Neil’s mind. As if it wasn’t so blunt that he had to avoid Neil afterwards, skipping moments that they usually had - Andrew on the counter while Neil makes his tea, sitting up in his bed as they answer each other’s questions. 

He’s standing in front of the house before he even realizes. Renee’s sitting there in the garden, clipping stray weeds and pruning excess leaves off the purple flowers she just planted last week. Immediately her gaze climbs up to meet his, like she knows somehow that he’s thinking. Neil finds it less eerie now that he knows her, but it’s still unnerving, the way she watches like she can peel back the layers of years and get back to the root. 

She says, “Hello Neil,” an extended invitation that is softer than usual. And Neil, overrun by thoughts tangling together, sits down beside her and takes the clippers when offered, letting her point out the stubborn weeds so he can trim them away. 

-

The next morning, Seth and Allison are arguing in the kitchen before anybody’s even gotten up. Neil wakes startled, blinking his eyes into focus as he watches Andrew sit up in bed. His chest is heaving up and down, black shirt shifting while the shadows cling. He sighs heavily, rubbing a hand across his cheek.

“They’re not going to stop for a while,” Andrew says. Neil focuses on his voice to hear it above the screaming, letting it settle him back into bed. 

“Do they do this often?” Neil asks, turning on his side to see Andrew’s face. His expression is tired and still. Neil feels calmer just watching him.

“Sometimes. They get back together soon enough though, it won’t last too long.” 

Downstairs, something hits the wall. Neil shuffles further down into bed to hide his flinch and swallows down his anger. He thinks of Allison - tall and strong and borderline vicious when she wants to be - and then of Seth, bigger and stronger, with a mean streak.

“Does Seth ever get violent?” It takes a moment for him to catch his breath again, swallowing down another dose of anger, a second of fear. 

“No,” Andrew says back, a solid piece of truth to further calm his fraying nerves. In the dark of early morning, his voice is suspended in the space between them. Neil grabs onto it like a tether, lets it pull him back to calm. 

“Good,” Neil says then, and Andrew shifts up onto his shoulder, the sheets rustling as they fall down over his torso.

“That doesn’t happen here,” Andrew adds. “As much as we fight or don’t get along, violence isn’t something common. Especially not between Seth and Allison. He knows better, but if he wants to tell you about that, then he will.”

Neil nods, slumping down and bringing the blanket up under his chin. After another moment of silence, just watching each other, he lets his eyes shut as he asks, “Questions?” 

Andrew hasn’t been home much since he told Neil about his proposal - either taking extra shifts at work or just not coming home when he usually does. Some nights, Neil is woken by Andrew slinking into the room quietly. They don’t talk much anymore. Neil is only just realizing that it bothers him. 

“What is there left to talk about? It’s not a slumber party.” 

“Is that a no, then?” 

Neil opens his eyes in silence, watching Andrew shake his head minutely. 

“Why did you ask that? The other night?” 

It’s vague enough that Neil can redirect if it goes wrong, and enough to light up the truth in Andrew’s mind. No matter how many times he asks, Andrew refuses to admit whether or not he has photographic memory. Still, Neil follows back the clues, takes it in stride.

“Ask what?” Andrew asks. Vague, vague, vague. Neil feels embarrassment blooming within himself, a feeling rare as it is unobvious. Still, his face goes hot against his will.    


“I don’t think you’d offer to hook up with me just to get Nicky to leave me alone.” 

“I don’t think you should be making assumptions without my truth,” Andrew replies. Neil can see, even in the dark, that his neck is flushed, that his jaw is working as he shuts into silence.

“So tell me the truth then,” Neil says. “I’m asking, that’s my question.” 

“Do you really have no idea that you are physically attractive? Do you understand how physical attraction works?” 

“That’s two questions,” Neil says. Andrew sits up all the way. 

“I offered because I’m attracted to you. And if that keeps Nicky off your back, then that’s good for you too.” 

Neil squints, mulling it over. “But even when he thought we were hooking up, he offered to find me someone else because you’re not the  _ boyfriend _ type.” 

Neil’s chest feels drawn tight waiting for Andrew’s response, a taut string wound around the edges of his breath.

It takes a moment, and then Andrew says, “If he doesn’t leave you alone, you can tell him that.” 

As vague as the suggestion is, Neil catches on, fighting back confusion as he asks, “That we’re dating?”

The thought is foreign, convoluted and distorted by years of being unknown, expecting to die before he’d ever gotten the chance to figure out attraction or any other thing. Still, that doesn’t answer the other question. Andrew’s halted silence baits Neil into the rest of the conversation.

“I’ve never done that with anyone before,” Neil says. “I’ve kissed girls, but it was just small things. I didn’t have time for other stuff.” 

Andrew’s response comes quick, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Neil. “We don’t have to.” 

“I know.” 

Still, the thought lingers. It’s not that he  _ doesn’t  _ want to, it’s that he’s not sure how it’d happen - all the when and where and anticipation that comes with it. Neil’s head spins just thinking about it. 

“Go back to sleep, rabbit. I can feel you thinking too hard.” 

So Neil, prompted by Andrew sinking back into bed, and his own tangle of thoughts, goes back to sleep. At the edge of his consciousness, he realizes that the screaming downstairs stopped long before their conversation had ended. 

-

It’s a slow burning thing, inevitable in a way once Neil considers it. 

He finds that attraction is a subtle thing, still complicated in every aspect. Once he starts thinking about it, it sneaks into every corner of his mind, burrowing away to complicate his dreams. It’s easy enough to look at women and find them beautiful - in a sort of untouchable, admirable way. Allison glows noticeably, but Neil doesn’t feel a single thing when he looks at her. Dan and Renee, in their quieter nature, are just as pretty, but it’s more in the way that’s pleasing to look at. 

He considers that when Kevin asks to join him on his run, wanting to blow off the frustration from a project he has in class. 

Neil doesn’t think twice before asking, “Are you attracted to women or men?” 

Kevin doesn’t even stop running when he answers. “Both.” 

“How did you find out that you liked both?” Neil responds, cutting through a path in the bushes alongside campus. Somehow, he thinks that Kevin’s intense indifference is exactly what he needs to figure it out. Kevin takes a moment to respond, taking deep breaths to combat the harsh pace they’re taking. Neil alternates between watching him breathe and taking in the blue of the sky, legs and arms pumping on autopilot. 

Eventually, the silence breaks around the sound of Kevin’s voice. “The same way I got to know girls and liked them. It was the same with men.” His face sours just a bit at the end, but he doesn’t offer an explanation, so Neil doesn’t ask despite his curiosity. 

The rest of the run goes in silence, green trees blurring by at the steady pace that they keep. Neil finds some peace in the quiet, in the even roll of Kevin’s panting and the slap of their shoes on the pavement. If Neil speeds up when Kevin starts to critique his running form, it’s only because the rain started up again. 

-

Attraction, when studied, makes itself obvious in the subtlest ways. 

Neil forces himself not to think about it when he notices the difference; how clinically he observes everyone else in comparison to the way he sees Andrew. There are plenty of beautiful people in the world, but with Andrew, Neil sees features and finds himself wanting to be closer. 

The chance comes and goes, the opportunity to communicate slipping in and out of grasp with his inexperience, and the lack of time. He figures the best chance to broach the subject is another movie night. If Andrew goes, Neil will follow, just to see. Curiosity is a lit fire under him, turning his moves anticipatory and hesitant at the same time. 

Andrew catches on when he finds Neil pacing in the room before his work shift, counting to ten in German and French and every other language he can bring to mind. 

“Thinking of running again, rabbit?” 

The nickname reminds him of the suspicious Andrew from the beginning, bristling with unconcealed malice. It’s nothing like from the night before, voice drenched in nighttime and the scent of cotton. 

It’s a wonder that he’d calmed down at all, with the truths Neil had shared. With the time spent sharing a room, Andrew poking fun at the documentaries made about his father, and the untimely death of his son and wife. It’s a wonder Neil’s even here, wondering about how to kiss a boy instead of the fucked up parts of his life that he managed to survive. 

“Just thinking,” Neil mutters back, shaking the sticking thoughts loose. Andrew doesn’t ask, though his eyes stay curious as he watches Neil shift across the floor. 

“Matt told me that they’re waiting up on you tonight after you get out of work.” 

Neil slows in his steps, turning a little and trying not to focus on the gleam in Andrew’s hazel eyes, caught in a slant of sunlight from the window. 

“Okay,” he responds, remembering suddenly that he has work, and that there are greater things to worry about than Andrew. The thought fixes itself to his brain though, when he runs to work and while he’s there, shelving books and scanning them into the system again. 

Kevin shows up thirty minutes before his shift ends, a pile of books slanting side to side, almost comically, in his arms. 

“I’d like to return these,” he mumbles, eyes cast downwards so he doesn’t even notice it’s Neil sitting at the desk.

“Okay,” he says. Kevin looks up then, nearly knocking over the books with the frantic jut of his chin. 

“Since when do you work here?” he asks, eyebrows pulled so low that his eyes nearly disappear. Neil thinks back to their run, when he’d mentioned it in passing. He can’t hide the deadpan tone of his voice when he says, “A while,” then nods at the desk for Kevin to put the books down. The only sound is the scanner beeping for each one, and then Kevin interrupts the silence to say, “Is Andrew coming to movies tonight?” 

Neil looks up in the middle of scanning. “I don’t know. Why didn’t you ask him?” 

“I just figured you would’ve known. You share a room. He talks to you.” 

Neil stares, figuring that assumption might lend itself to convincing Nicky that he and Andrew are dating.

When he’s finished, he prints out the sticker for Kevin’s campus library card and hands it to him. Kevin gives a rare smile before he leaves, leaving Neil feeling briefly unsettled. Then Erik comes in with a new cart and sends him back to the shelves, effectively distracting him for the rest of the shift. 

-

When Neil gets home, the living room is full, with the exception of Seth. 

“Neil!” Nicky shouts, followed by a chorus of shushing. Kevin shifts on the couch, Andrew shifting to open up the spot for Neil. He drops down into the spot cautiously, accepting the orange that Matt clambers over to give to him. 

“You mentioned they were your favorites,” he grins, and Neil feels something rise and swell in his chest. 

“Thanks,” he manages, hesitantly patting Matt’s head. Matt sucks in a quiet breath until Neil removes his hand, and then crawls back to his spot on the floor, expression slightly awestruck. Dan kisses his cheek gently, turning to smile at Neil over her shoulder. He returns it for a brief moment, worried that it’ll become sharp and pointed, and then turns his attention to the laptop as he peels the orange. 

“Okay, so now we start,” says Allison. Her voice is tense, forced contentment ringing through it. Someone queues up the first movie from their phone. 

Neil looks at Andrew as the lights go dim, screen going black for a moment as their eyes meet. From there the night dissolves into half lidded stares caught in between movie scenes and fast breaths, Neil watching Andrew watch Neil.  _ This is a buildup _ , Neil thinks, though he’s not sure to what.

The first movie goes by slow, a whirlwind of action scenes that elude Neil’s interest. There’s idle chatter over the movie for the whole time, Allison suggesting a drinking game to keep it interesting, and Renee politely interjecting that it’s probably not the best idea if they’re trying to stay awake. 

“The snacks make us more tired, to be fair,” Aaron chimes in. Neil watches as Kevin turns to him, a half smile on his face that’s somehow harder to look at when directed towards Aaron. In the second that it happens, Andrew follows the tilt of Neil’s gaze and takes it in, face bricking up in an instant. To think that his walls had been gone for so long earlier is surprising, but even more so that Neil noticed at all. 

Andrew stands without saying anything, and Renee turns her head as he stands up, face worried as Andrew heads up the stairs. Unthinkingly, Neil follows, ignoring the not so subtle whispering and Nicky’s obnoxious insinuations. Andrew doesn’t slam the door shut in Neil’s face, so Neil walks in and shuts it behind him. 

“What was that?” 

Andrew doesn’t hesitate in his response. “What was what?” 

Even being subtle doesn’t hide the tension laced precisely through his shoulders, the way he doesn’t take his eyes off of Neil. 

“You’re not upset for nothing,” Neil says, keeping his hands flat against his side to keep from bringing them up to gesture.    
“I’m not upset.” The truth is plain, but not simple. Neil believes him, takes what’s given anyway and hopes that Andrew will be open to explaining. 

“Do you want to go back?” 

Andrew shakes his head, going to lean against the window. He lights a cigarette in the same moment, and when Neil looks closer, he notices the redness around Andrew’s knuckles, like a sunburn. 

Neil steps closer, walking slowly so he doesn’t scare Andrew away. He gets far enough to step into the space between Andrew’s legs, holding his hand out for the cigarette. Neil’s mind is a litany of figuring out how to distract Andrew, how to pull him away from the dangerous edge in his head. The questions he’d been planning on asking evaporate then, as Andrew grabs Neil’s chin. 

“I want to kiss you,” Andrew says. Once he’s sure that Neil’s attention is on him, he pulls his hand away. 

“Okay,” Neil says back, voice coming out thinner than a whisper. Andrew’s expression takes on a knife edge. 

“Okay?” 

“Yes,” Neil amends breathlessly. “Yes, kiss me.”    


Andrew blows out the last wisps of smoke, and fits their mouths together. Neil promptly stops thinking, hands gripping his own shirt sleeves to keep from coming up to grab too harshly. Andrew pulls away then, mouth still close, trailing the kisses down to Neil’s jaw. Unthinkingly, he reaches to grab Andrew's neck, and finally, Andrew pulls away, grabbing Neil’s hand. 

“Don’t. Don’t touch me,” Andrew mumbles, voice rough. His jaw works, breath coming in flush against Neil’s skin still. 

“Okay. I won’t.” 

“Okay,” Andrew repeats. With that, he picks up the cigarette (Neil hadn’t noticed he abandoned it there on the windowsill) and turns away, effectively dismissing Neil. 

He goes for a run, mind spinning with the memory of Andrew’s mouth on his, and the want coursing through his veins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading !! let me know what y'all thought and of course, kudos and comments are always appreciated <3
> 
> stay safe, i hope school is going well for y'all and everyone's staying safe!! wear your masks n' wash your hands babes (and to my people living in the u.s. ,,, take a break from socials please,, i know seeing what's going on is killing rn, but i promise we'll get through)

**Author's Note:**

> love you guys sosososo much ! i'm so thankful for the support i receive, and for the wonderful fics i've read from some of y'all  
> kudos and comments are appreciated vv much, thank you guys so much <3
> 
> also big thanks to makayla (jostens-pitch on tumblr and ao3!) bc she listens to me rant about my writing and reads my fics despite hearing me rant about every detail <3


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